But hardly an unpleasant change.
"I've forgotten how it goes on--the Dormouse--after 'Well in.' Do you
"Nope. Look it up when we get back. And anyhow--" "What?"
"Game called for to-day. The Lirrups have started looking important--that
means it's about ten minutes of, they always leave on the dot. Well--"
and Peter rose, scattering sand. "We must obey our social calendar, my
prominent young friends--just think how awful it would be if we were the
last to go. Race you half-way to the float and back, Ted."
"You're on," and the next few minutes were splashingly athletic.
Going back to the bath-house, though, Ted laughed at himself rather
whimsically. That extraordinary day-dream of the slave and the
Elinor Princess! It helped sometimes, to make pictures of the very
impossible--even of things as impossible as that. If Elinor had only been
older before the war came along and changed so much.
He saw another little mental photograph, the kind of photograph, he mused,
that sleekly shabby Frenchmen slip from under views of the Vendome
Column and Napoleon's Tomb when they are trying to sell tourists picture
post-cards outside the Cafe de la Paix.