A shining mahogany launch was dropped into the water, run back to the gangway, and a girl ran lightly down the steps.
"Elizabeth Radnor," said Eve, wondering. "What can she be doing there?"
"Perhaps the owners take lessons in dancing," I suggested.
Eve smiled. "She gives lessons in swimming too," she said.
A man followed Miss Radnor. He seemed strangely familiar.
"Bobby!" cried Eve. "I think it's funny. I'm sure it's Bobby."
I was sure it was Bobby. It might be funny, but it was not strange. The launch made for Old Goodwin's landing at forty miles an hour.