She was anxiously awaiting me, and listened to my report without a word. When I had finished, she deliberately wrung the last atom of water out of the derelict stocking, smoothed it out carefully by the side of the chemise in the sun, laid herself down on the sand, and burst into tears. I tried to comfort her. I patted her shoulder and took her hand in mine. "Don't worry, Mermaid dear," I said. "Trust me--I'll think of something. I know. I'll swim round to my cove and dress, and then go and get you some fresh clothes before anyone's the wiser. See? I'll go now," I added, getting up and licking the blood off my hand. "You wait here and--" I broke off abruptly, and one of the more violent expletives, indicative of combined horror and amazement, escaped my lips before I could stop it. "What is it?" wailed the Mermaid. On the crest of a wave, some thirty yards from the shore, danced my grey hat. Beyond it, a little to the right, was something which might be a shirt. Stammering incoherent sentences, I staggered into the water and swam for the hat. When I had caught it, I went on to get the shirt. I would have gone on round the headland to my cove, only the shirt was not my shirt. It was Berry's! Yes, it was--had his name on it and all. And not ten yards away floated Daphne's straw hat. For the next two minutes I was in imminent danger of drowning. At last I began to swim feebly, blindly back. When I reached the shore, I fell on my knees in the surf and laughed till the eighth wave knocked me head over heels and the ninth broke into my open jaws and choked me. The next moment the girl caught me by the arm, and I stumbled out and lay down on the dry sand with the shirt clasped to my breast. My hat had gone again ages ago. Then I looked at the girl kneeling anxiously by my side, and began to laugh again. She sat back on her heels, with one hand to her lips and a scared expression on her face. "He's mad," she said, half to herself, "mad! Must have been stung by a jelly-fish or something. I've heard--" I cut her short. "Mermaid dear, I'm as sane as you are, only--" "Only what?" "Everybody's doing it"--she recoiled--"doing it! Listen to me. True, that is your chemise. True, that out there is my hat--there it is. But here is Berry's shirt, and miles out there is Daphne's straw hat. If I'd stayed long enough, I've no doubt I should have seen Jonah's trousers and Jill's chemisette, which means or mean--whichever you like--that...." Hurriedly I explained, and then fell again into uproarious laughter. This time she joined me in my mirth. At length: "But, after all," she said, "it doesn't make it any better for me, because I'm all alone, while you're a party." "I admit it has been said that Unity is Strength," said I, "but I don't know that that exactly applies--" "And I can't walk home like this, even with that on." She indicated the chemise. "Certainly not with that on: it'd only make it more indec--"