“Honest to God, Venice. Now, Shirley, behave yourself! We’ll sit in the wretched boat, but no more. And the river just here is safe....” “Look here,” said Hugo. “What about this for an idea? The women have one end of the boat and we the other?” “And no matches to----” “But where’s Iris?” “Here,” came her voice, as though from the water. “In the middle of the boat. Very comfortable. Many cushions. I’ll take care of the boat while you swim....” “Isn’t she kind, our fast friend! I say, no matches to be struck until some one gives the word! My figure’s good, but even Reville doesn’t think it’s perfect....” “And better hand all your nasty bits of jewellery and watches to Iris.” “’Ere’s towels,” said a miserable voice. The canoe rocked beneath us. At our end soft things dropped to our feet, got in the way. Never was so dark and still a night. It was a relief taking off even the white flannels. “Any swimming to be done,” said Guy, “to be done in a straight line between this and the other bank. First man or woman who disobeys gets a crack on the head (a) from the bridge over there and (b) from me.” “This wing’s getting a bit crowded,” sighed Hugo. “It’s a blessing we’re not French and haven’t nice warm underclothes as well.” The glow of her cigarette lit Iris’s mouth and eyes.... “I got one foot in the water,” she said at large. “Taking the edge off our bathing!” Dear Hugo.... “Now, wot’s all this about bathing?” said a Voice. “Police! Puss, puss!” “Didn’t I tell ’em!” panted the man in shirt-sleeves. “Didn’t I! Told ’em it was against the lor.” “Look here!” cried Venice from the pit of darkness. “Don’t you put that bull’s-eye this way, else God knows what you won’t see!” “And he’ll never go back to his wife again,” sang Shirley. “I know men.” “You ain’t allowed to swim here,” said the Voice tremendously. “Are they, Bill? Out of it, now!” “I do wish,” Hugo said violently, “that perfect strangers wouldn’t force themselves on us like this. Any one would think we were at a Royal Garden Party!” The canoe rocked frantically. “Damn you, Guy!” said Napier. The constable turned his bull’s-eye to where he thought Guy’s face would be, then flashed it a foot higher. “About this law,” murmured Guy. “Now, sir,” said the Voice, rather pathetically I thought. “I don’t want to have no trouble.” “The very word! I was just going to ask you if it would be troubling you too much to ask you to run up to your house to lend us some towels. It really would be very kind of you. Our friend here hasn’t brought us quite enough....” Splash! “Look ’ere,” began the Voice desperately. “Don’t look, constable! Be strong. Use your will-power. Women are but idle vanities.” “Oo!” gurgled Venice. “If you only knew how lovely it was! Come on, everybody. Oh, it’s so warm!” “Now remember, Venice--in a straight line between the banks.” “That’s right, sir,” said the Voice. “You and your banks!” sighed Shirley. Splash! “Ow, it’s freezing!”