He carried field-glasses and a newspaper, and sat down on one of
the iron seats and began to read. Sometimes he would lay down the
paper and turn his glasses on the sea. He looked for a long time at
the destroyer. I watched him for half an hour, till he got up and
went back to the house for his luncheon, when I returned to the
hotel for mine.
I wasn't feeling very confident. This decent common-place dwelling
was not what I had expected. The man might be the bald
archaeologist of that horrible moorland farm, or he might not. He
was exactly the kind of satisfied old bird you will find in every
suburb and every holiday place. If you wanted a type of the perfectly
harmless person you would probably pitch on that.
But after lunch, as I sat in the hotel porch, I perked up, for I saw
the thing I had hoped for and had dreaded to miss. A yacht came
up from the south and dropped anchor pretty well opposite the
Ruff. She seemed about a hundred and fifty tons, and I saw she
belonged to the Squadron from the white ensign. So Scaife and I
went down to the harbour and hired a boatman for an afternoon's fishing.
I spent a warm and peaceful afternoon. We caught between us
about twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue
sea I took a cheerier view of things. Above the white cliffs of the
Ruff I saw the green and red of the villas, and especially the great
flagstaff of Trafalgar Lodge.
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