“It was splendid,” said the infatuated dramatist. “It was magnificent. It—”

He saw that she was smiling.

“You’re very wet,” she said.

George glanced down at his soaked clothes. It had been a nice suit once.

“Hadn’t you better hurry back and change into something dry?”

Looking round about him, George perceived that sundry of the inquisitive were swooping down, with speculation in their eyes. It was time to depart.

“Have you far to go?”

“Not far. I’m staying at the Beach View Hotel.”

“Why, so am I. I hope we shall meet again.”

“We shall,” said George confidently.

“How did you happen to fall in?”

“I was—er—I was looking at something in the water.”

“I thought you were,” said the girl, quietly.

George blushed.

“I know,” he said, “it was abominably rude of me to stare like that; but—”

“You should learn to swim,” interrupted the girl. “I can’t understand why every boy in the country isn’t made to learn to swim before he’s ten years old. And it isn’t a bit difficult, really. I could teach you in a week.”

The struggle between George and George’s conscience was brief. The conscience, weak by nature and flabby from long want of exercise, had no sort of chance from the start.

“I wish you would,” said George. And with those words he realised that he had definitely committed himself to his hypocritical role. Till that moment explanation would have been difficult, but possible. Now it was impossible.

“I will,” said the girl. “I’ll start to-morrow if you like.” She waded into the water.

“We’ll talk it over at the hotel,” she said, hastily. “Here comes a crowd of horrid people. I’m going to swim out again.”

She hurried into deeper water, while George, turning, made his way through a growing throng of goggling spectators. Of the fifteen who got within speaking distance of him, six told him that he was wet. The other nine asked him if he had fallen in.

Her name was Vaughan, and she was visiting Marvis Bay in company with an aunt. So much George ascertained from the management of the hotel. Later, after dinner, meeting both ladies on the esplanade, he gleaned further information—to wit, that her first name was Mary, that her aunt was glad to make his acquaintance, liked Marvis Bay but preferred Trouville, and thought it was getting a little chilly and would go indoors.