'It is not. I'm going right away now, and I shall never speak to you again.' She moved away from him, and prepared to sit down. 'There's a jelly-fish just where you're going to sit,' said Wilton. 'I don't care.' 'It will. I speak from experience, as one on whom you have sat so often.' 'I'm not amused.' 'Have patience. I can be funnier than that.' 'Please don't talk to me.' 'Very well.' She seated herself with her back to him. Dignity demanded reprisals, so he seated himself with his back to her; and the futile ocean raged towards them, and the wind grew chillier every minute. Time passed. Darkness fell. The little bay became a black cavern, dotted here and there with white, where the breeze whipped the surface of the water. Wilton sighed. It was lonely sitting there all by himself. How much jollier it would have been if-- A hand touched his shoulder, and a voice spoke--meekly. 'Jack, dear, it--it's awfully cold. Don't you think if we were to--snuggle up--' He reached out and folded her in an embrace which would have aroused the professional enthusiasm of Hackenschmidt and drawn guttural congratulations from Zbysco. She creaked, but did not crack, beneath the strain. 'That's much nicer,' she said, softly. 'Jack, I don't think the tide's started even to think of going down yet.' 'I hope not,' said Wilton. THE MIXER I. _He Meets a Shy Gentleman_ Looking back, I always consider that my career as a dog proper really started when I was bought for the sum of half a crown by the Shy Man. That event marked the end of my puppyhood. The knowledge that I was worth actual cash to somebody filled me with a sense of new responsibilities. It sobered me. Besides, it was only after that half-crown changed hands that I went out into the great world; and, however interesting life may be in an East End public-house, it is only when you go out into the world that you really broaden your mind and begin to see things.