Nobody but Bettina! Justin admitted it to himself triumphantly. Please God, there should never be any one but Bettina!
Perhaps something of his thought showed in his face, for Bobbie clapped him on the shoulder with a hearty, "Go in and win her, old man, and we'll have a double wedding."
"If my wedding," solemnly, "were as sure as yours, I'd burn incense to the gods."
"Well, why don't you make it sure?"
"I can't. She stands on her pedestal, and I can't reach up to her."
"Man, you're afraid of her."
"It isn't that. But I'm not in this race to fall out, Bobbie. I guess you can see that."
Bobbie nodded. "Anybody who has eyes can see it," he said.
The little yacht was in the water now, still helpless because of her furled sails.
Justin, making a bridge of the small boats tied to the floating pier, gained dry land, and continued his conversation with Bobbie across the intervening space. "Suppose we cut the luncheon out, and go for a sail this afternoon. We can land off Gloucester way and have tea at the Lobster Pot."