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Life is earnest, Sam. I want to speak to you about that when I've finished answering these infernal letters. Where was I? 'We should be glad to meet you at any time, if you will make an appointment... Bingley-on-the-Sea! Good heavens! Why Bingley-on-the-Sea? Why not Margate, while you are about it?" "Margate is too bracing. I did not wish to be braced. Bingley suited my mood.
Wibblesley Eggshaw," said Sir Mallaby, swooping back to duty once more, "we beg to state that we are prepared to accept service ... what time did you dock this morning?" "I landed nearly a week ago." "A week ago! Then what the deuce have you been doing with yourself? Why haven't I seen you?" "I've been down at Bingley-on-the-Sea." "Bingley! What on earth were you doing at that God-forsaken place?"
Neither of these courses appealed to Samuel Marlowe. He had sought relief by slinking off alone to the Hotel Magnificent at Bingley-on-the-Sea. It was the same spirit which has often moved other men in similar circumstances to go off to the Rockies to shoot grizzlies. To a certain extent the Hotel Magnificent had dulled the pain.
A week after the liner "Atlantic" had docked at Southampton Sam Marlowe might have been observed and was observed by various of the residents sitting on a bench on the esplanade of that rising watering-place, Bingley-on-the-Sea, in Sussex.
"I've been down at Bingley-on-the-Sea." "Bingley! What on earth were you doing at that Godforsaken place?" "Wrestling with myself," said Sam with simple dignity. Sir Mallaby's agile mind had leaped back to the letter which he was answering. "We should be glad to meet you.... Wrestling, eh! Well, I like a boy to be fond of manly sports. Still, life isn't all athletics. Don't forget that.
A week after the liner Atlantic had docked at Southampton, Sam Marlowe might have been observed and was observed by various of the residents sitting on a bench on the esplanade of that repellent watering-place, Bingley-on-the-Sea, in Sussex.
The Swiss waiters at the Hotel Magnificent, where Sam was stopping, are in a class of bungling incompetence by themselves, the envy and despair of all the other Swiss waiters at all the other Hotels Magnificent along the coast. For dreariness of aspect Bingley-on-the-Sea stands alone.
Sir Mallaby chuckled heartily. "My dear boy, you don't mean to tell me that you're taking a shipboard flirtation seriously. Why, you're expected to fall in love with a different girl every time you go on a voyage. You'll get over this in a week. You'd have got over it now if you hadn't gone and buried yourself in a depressing place like Bingley-on-the-Sea." The whistle of the speaking-tube blew.
Long hours of brooding among the red plush settees in the lounge of the Hotel Magnificent at Bingley-on-the-Sea had brought about this strange, even morbid, attitude of mind in Samuel Marlowe. Work, he had decided even before his conversation with Eustace, was the only medicine for his sick soul.
All watering-places on the south coast of England are blots on the landscape, but though I am aware that by saying it I shall offend the civic pride of some of the others none are so peculiarly foul as Bingley-on-the-Sea. The asphalte on the Bingley esplanade is several degrees more depressing than the asphalte on other esplanades.
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