“Why?”
“I didn’t care to be alone with any of them.”
“Lord bless your sweet soul! Were you thinking of me?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Are you glad to see me?”
“Oh yes. The more the merrier.”
This impudence brought his high hopes down. But they soared again when she said, with charming inconsistency:
“Dog-on it! here comes somebody!”
A fat man who somewhat resembled the globular figures cartoonists use to represent the world, wallowed out, splashing like a side-wheel raft-boat. He tried to climb aboard, but his equator was too wide for his short arms, and neither Sheila nor Winfield offered to lend him a hand. He gave up and propelled himself back to shore with the grace of a bell-buoy.
“Good-by, old flotsam and jetsam,” said Winfield.