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They are so excited, and they'll never go to sleep." Of all the men on board the Torpedo Lieutenant's heart was perhaps nearest that of a child. He tiptoed into the cabin-flat and drew the curtain of the nearest cabin. "Who's in here?" "Me," said a small voice. Torps approached the bunk. "Who's 'me' Georgina?" "Yes. Goodnight, Mr. Mainwaring."
The Indiarubber Man looked cautiously round the sunlit enclosure. "True. So you are " "And it's time for your beef-tea," added Betty severely, marching off in the direction of the distant wing. Her patient watched her slim form retreating and vanish down a green alley. "You dear," he said, "you dear!" He meditated awhile. "It's a rum world," he soliloquised. "Torps has gone. The Young Doc.'s gone.
Torps, sitting beside her, met her eyes with his grave, gentle smile. "I'm so glad to see you again," he said, "that I can't think of anything else to say. It was nice of you to write and tell me you were here." As if by common consent, they had discussed nothing but generalities during the half-hour's walk that brought them to this sheltered hollow in the cliffs.
"You will understand, you " She broke off to watch the coastguard hurrying towards them. "Does that sailor want to speak to us, do you think? He seems in a great hurry." Torps stood at her side staring. The coastguard drew near, wiping his face with a vast blue and white spotted handkerchief, for he had been running.
"No, you tell first." "There isn't much to tell." She interlaced her fingers round her updrawn knees. Her grey eyes were turned to the sea, and Torps watched her profile against the sky wistfully, studying the pure brow, the threads of silver appearing here and there in her soft brown hair, the strong, almost boyish lines of mouth and chin. En profile, thus, she looked very like a handsome boy.
She laughed merrily. "You pay a pretty compliment, Mr. Gerrard!" "Double-O" Gerrard reddened and lapsed into bashful silence. "It is agreed, then. We are to have a children's party, and I may come. Won't the children be excited!" "Torps, what are you going to do with them," asked the First Lieutenant, "besides breaking their necks by pushing them down the windsails?"
Introduction to H.E. the Viceroy of India, K.C.B., K.C.S.I., S.O.S. The most exalted form of introduction is seen in the presentation of Mr. Tomkins, American tourist, to H.E. the Viceroy of India. An aide-de-camp in uniform at the foot of a grand staircase shouts, "Mr. Tomkins!" Thompson"; another aide, four feet further on, calls "Mr. Torps."
The Skipper's Missus sat by the fire, with her hands linked round her knees in her habitually graceful and oddly characteristic attitude; Torps and Jess, those gentle philosophers, occupied the chintz-covered settee; the A.P. sat on the hearth-rug, cross-legged like a tailor, so that he could toast and consume the maximum number of muffins with the minimum amount of exertion; the Junior Watchkeeper, who by his own admission "went all the bundle on his tea," and the Indiarubber Man, who was clumsy with a tea-cup, shared the table and a jam-pot, and sat munching, tranquil-eyed, like a pair of oxen in a stall.
She leaned towards him a little as he sat with lowered eyes. "This is a time of grave anxiety, isn't it?" she continued gently, as if explaining something to an impatient child. "You naval men ought to know. There is talk of war everywhere of war with Germany. They say we are on the brink of it to-day." Torps nodded. "Supposing it came now . . . and you were recalled. How do they recall you?
"Dear Trevor, yes . . . because they need me so. . . . Believe me, I am not wrong: and we keep our friendship still, sweet and sane " She broke off suddenly and raised a slim forefinger, holding her head sideways to listen, the way women and birds and children seem to hear better. "Hark! Did you hear? How odd! Listen, Trevor!" Torps brought himself back with an effort. "Hear what?" "Listen!"
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