'Peter did it,' Armorel replied. 'You may thank Peter.'
'Let me thank you,' he said, softly and persuasively. 'The other man may thank Peter.'
'Just as you like. So long, that is, as you remember that it will have to be a lesson to you as long as you live never to go out in a boat without a man.'
'It shall be a lesson. I promise. And the man I go out with, next time, shall not be you, Dick.'
'Never,' she went on, enforcing the lesson, 'never go in a boat alone, unless you know the waters. Are you Plymouth trippers? But then Plymouth people generally know how to handle a boat.'
'We are from London.' In the twilight the blush caused by being taken for a Plymouth tripper was not perceived. 'I am an artist, and I came to sketch.' He said this with some slight emphasis and distinction. There must be no mistaking an artist from London for a Plymouth tripper.
'You must be hungry.'
'We are ravenous, but at this moment one can only feel that it is better to be hungry and alive than to be drowned and dead.'
'Oh!' she said, earnestly, 'you don't know how strong the water is. It would have thrown you down and rolled you over and over among the rocks, your head would have been knocked to pieces, your face would have been crushed out of shape, every bone would have been broken: Peter has seen them so.'
'Ay! ay!' said Peter. 'I've picked 'em up just so. You are well off those rocks, gentlemen.'