"We will now bathe," repeated Archie.

"Go away," I said distinctly.

Archie sat down on my knees and put his damp towel on my face.

"When my wife and I took this commodious residence for six weeks,"
he said, "and engaged the sea at great expense to come up to its
doors twice a day, it was on the distinct understanding that our
guests should plunge into it punctually at seven o'clock every
morning."

"Don't be silly, it's about three now. And I wish you'd get off my
knees."

"It's a quarter-past seven."

"Then there you are, we've missed it. Well, we must see what we can
do for you to-morrow. Good-night."

Archie pulled all the clothes off me and walked with them to the
window.

"Jove, what a day!" he said. "And can't you smell the sea?"

"I can. Let that suffice. I say, what's happened to my blanket? I
must have swallowed it in my sleep."

"Where's his sponge?" I heard him murmuring to himself as he came