After breakfast the next day there was still no boat, but word came
that its owner had called and would I see him?

"About the boat," he began.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"She's moored just round the point there," he said.

"Why isn't she here?" I asked, adopting his pronoun. I had forgotten
for the moment that boats belong to the now enfranchised sex.

"Did you want her so soon?" he replied.

"It was all arranged for her to be here yesterday afternoon," I said.
"I have your letter about it."

"Oh, well, she'll be here directly," he answered.

"I should have preferred you to keep your word," I said stiffly.

He made no reply.

"Send for her at once," I said. It was now half-past ten. "I want to
go out this morning;" and he agreed.

The boat arrived at a little after three--an open boat with a mast. No
deck; nowhere to be comfortable, as the boom swung almost level with
the bulwarks. There was a foot of water in her.