The sun was hotly shining on their bright
attire and on the still turbulent waves. Ruth, thirsty after a breakfast
of herrings and bacon, was sucking iced lemonade up a straw. Nellie was
eating chocolate, undistributed remains of the night's benevolence. Demo
was yawning, not in the least because the proceedings failed to excite
his keen interest, but because he had been a journalist till three a.m.
and had risen at six in order to despatch a communication to the editor
of the _Staffordshire Signal_ by train. The girls were very
playful. Nellie dropped a piece of chocolate into Ruth's glass, and Ruth
fished it out, and bit at it.
"What a jolly taste!" she exclaimed.
And then Nellie bit at it.
"Oh, it's just lovely!" said Nellie, softly.
"Here, dear!" said Ruth, "try it."
And Denry had to try it, and to pronounce it a delicious novelty (which
indeed it was) and generally to brighten himself up. And all the time he
was murmuring in his heart, "This can't go on."
Nevertheless, he was obliged to admit that it was he who had invited
Ruth to pass the rest of her earthly life with him, and not _vice
versa_.
"Well, shall we go on somewhere else?" Ruth suggested.
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