The Adventures of Sally

ning occupations. At Roville, as at most French seashoreresorts, the morning is the time when the visiting population assemblesin force on the beach. Wh

er to smite one another with these handy implements. Oneof the dogs, a poodle of military aspect, wandered up t

its blue sky, its Casino, itssnow-white hotels along the Promenade, and its general glitter andgaiety, had brought her to a halt. Here she could have stayedindefinitely, but the voice of America was calling her back. Gerald hadwritten to say that "The

aving Rovill

eeling of peace, revelling as usual in the still novelsensation of having nothing t

ually, Sally fought stoutly against the temptation, butto-day the sun was so warm and the whisper of the waves so insinuatingthat she had almost dozed off, when she was aroused by voices close athand. There were many voices on

rs whom chance threwin her way and to try by the light of her intuition to fit them out withcharacters and occupations: nor h

e vaguely sinister. He had the dusky look of the clean-shavenman whose life is a perpetual struggle with a determined beard. Hecertainly shaved

ooking into his eyes. Thiswas because he had been staring at Sally with the utmost intentness eversince his arrival. His mou

dear," dec

d ever seen. He had a square chin, and at oneangle of the chin a slight cut. And Sally was convinc

ink," she meditated. "Ve

nice."She looked away, finding his

tions, had just succeeded in lighting acigarette in the teeth of a strong breeze, threw away the ma

Scrymgeour?"

hair absently. Sallywas looking straight in front

e meant to stay inParis."There was a slight pause.

life!"At this frank revelation of the red-haired young man's personalopinions, Sally, though considerably startled, was not displeased. Abroad-minded

fellow!" he

to remember a few odd bitsof French, I should have starved by this time. That girl," he went on,returning to the subject most imperatively occupying his mind, "is anabsolute topper!

e breathed again. At no period of his life hadhe ever behaved with anything but the most scrupulous correctnesshimself, but he had quailed at the idea of b

t to be careful,"

en thepoodle and a raffish-looking mongrel, who had joined the

ired young man seemed but faintly interested

her hair sort of curls

g into the box for another chocolate cream, gave animperceptible start. She, too, was staying at the No

ywell by report, but I've never heard of any Hotel Normandie. Where i

cooking's all right."His comp

pprovingly. "Jumpy oldblighter!""If there's one thing he's particular about, it's the sort of hotel hegoes to. Ever since I've known him he has always wanted the best. Ishould have thought he would have gone to the Splendide." He mused onthis problem in a dissatisfied sort of way for a moment, then seemed toreconcile himself to the fact that a rich man's eccentricities mu

s though he werecross-examining a reluctant witness. "Then why aren't you there? Whatare you doing here? Did he give you a ho

poodle a piece of nougat which should by rights have gone to theterrier. She shot a swift glance sideways, and saw the dark man standingin an attitude rather reminiscent of the stern father of melodrama aboutto drive his erring daughter

continued to gaze down thebeach. Of all outdoor sports, few are more stimulating than watchingmiddle-aged Frenchmen bathe. Drama, action, suspense, all are here. Fromthe first stealthy testing of the water with an apprehensive toe to thefinal seal-like plunge, there is never a dull moment. And apart from theexcitement of the thing, judging it

are you going to do? Wha

words the dark man, apparently feeling, as Sally hadsometimes felt in the society of her brother Fillmore, the futility ofmere language, turned sharply and st

r protestingly. How long this would have lasted one cannot say: fortowards the end of the first minute it was shattered by a purelyterrestrial uproar

ot have denied thathe fired the first gun of the campaign. But we must be just. The faultwas really Sally's. Absorbed in the scene which had just concluded andacutely inquisitive as to why the

ch would have excitedfavourable comment even among the blasé residents of a negro quarter orthe not easily-pleased critics of a Lancashire mining-village. From allover the beach dogs of every size, breed, and colour were racing to thescene: and while some of these merely remained in the ringside seats andbarked, a considerable

water's edge. She had beenparalysed from the start. Snarling bundles bumped against her legs andbounced away again, b

in the centre of the theatre ofwar there s

ughty Scrymgeour: he might be apain in the neck to "the family"; but he did know how to stop a dogfight. From the first moment of his intervention calm began to stealover the scene. He had the same effect on the almost inextricablyentwined belligerents as, in mediaeval legend, the Holy Grail, slidingdown the sunbeam, used to have on battling knights. He did not look likea dove of peace, but the most captious could not have denied that hebrought home the goods. T

n a moment before, he now gaveindications of a rather pleasing shyness. He braced himself with thatpainful a

jungle of a foreign tongue, "J'espère quevous n'êtes pas--oh, dammit, what's the word--J'espère que

it was awfully brave of you to save all ourlives."The compliment seemed to pass over the young man's head

nted aunt!" h

un round and disappeared at a walk so rapid thatit was almost a run. Sally watched him go and

r till dawn with indefatigable jazz: but atthe pensions of the economical like the Normandie, early to bed is therule. True, Jules, the stout young native who combined th

ay onwhich the dark man, the red-haired young man, and their friendSc

far corner, illuminated the upper half of Jules,slumbering in a chair. Jules seemed to Sall

ysleep. Sally, who had been to the Casino to hear the band and afterward

elieved to hear footsteps inthe street outside, followed by the opening of the front door. If Juleswould have had to wake up anyway, she felt her sense of responsibilitylessene

ning," said Sal

still green in his memory. He had either notceased blushing since their last meeting or he w

his feet, which, in theembarrassment of the

uppose you would sa

this thrust by dropping his hatand tripp

sort of somnambulistictrance in the neighbourhood

ken you up," said Sally, c

outbreaking his slumber. His brain, if you could call it that, was workingautomatically. He had shut up the gate with a clang and was tu

or's efforts. After the first spurt, conversationhad languished. Sally had nothing of immediat

nore from Jules b

ealing with thenative population that actions spoke louder than words. If she wantedanything in a restaurant or at a shop, she po

ally well--the opening, to wit, of the ironcage. There are ways of doing this. Jules' was the right way. He wasaccustomed to do it with a flourish, and general

not be much to look at, but

rting his key in the lock, he stoodstaring in an attitude of frozen horror. He was a man who took mostthing

Sally, turning to her co

pt 'oo la la!'"The young man, thus appealed to, nerved himself to the task. H

d very rapidly and at considerable length. The fact that neitherof his hearers understood a word of what he was saying appeared not tohave impressed itself upon him. Or, if he gave a thought to it, hedismissed the objection as trifling. He wanted to expl

m!" said S

e of Johnstown might havelooked on being req

an's memory there swam to the surface asingle word--a word which he must have he

off at themain. There was a moment of dazed silence, such as

ut--if he knows, which I doubt--and tell him to speak slowly. Thenwe shal

!" cried Jules, catching the idea on the fly. "Lentement. Ah,oui, lentement."There followed a length

eshoved us into the lift and slammed the door, forgetting that he hadleft the keys on the desk.""I see," said Sally. "So we're shut in?""I'

ghter' is in French,

ng, we might all utter a loud yell. It would scaremost of the people in the hotel to death, but there might be a s

mad."The young man searched for words, and eventually found some whichexpressed

. "Now, all together

the emotional Jules was sobbing silentlyinto the bunch of cotton-waste which served him in

at to dobefore the doctor comes, of how to make a dainty winter coat for babyout of father's last year's under-vest and of the best method of copingwith the cold mutton. But nobody yet has come forward with

speech. "Ask him what's thematter."T

ingFrench always makes me feel as if my nose were coming off. Couldn't wejust leave him to have his cry out by himself?""The idea!" said S

aid Sally. "It's the onlyreal way of learning F

themenus.""Would he talk about partridges at a time like this?""He might. The French are extraordinary people.""Well, I'll have another go at him. But he's a difficult chap to

the second time this sort of thing hashappened, and they warned him last time that once more would mean thepush.""Then we mustn't dream of yelling," said Sally, decidedly. "It means apretty long wait, you know. As far as I can gath

es."Jules, cheered by his victims' kindly forbearance, lowered the car tothe ground floor, where, after a glance of infinite longing at the keyson the distant desk, the sort of glance whic

timulating influence of this nocturnaladventure, the red-haired young man had lost that shy confusion whichhad rendered him so ill at ease when he had encountered Sall

t I mean. I mean, about making such a most ghastly ass ofmyself this morning. I... I never dream

know you're afair-minded man and realize that it isn't my fault.""Don't rub it in," pleaded the young man. "As a matter of fact, if youwant to know, I think your mouth is ab

llided with some hard object whilesleep

elations, I'll begin. Better start with names. Mine isSally Nicholas. What's yours?""Mine? Oh, ah, yes, I see what you mean.""I thought you would. I put it as clearly as I could. Well, what isit?""Kemp.""And the first name?""Well, as a matter of fact," said the young man, "I've always ratherhushed up my first name, because when I was chr

don't look like a Lancelot and never shall. My pals," he added in a m

hinking of me as Ginger?'' sug

all."Jules stirred in his sleep and grunted. No oth

me about yourself?" said

think it will interest you...""Oh, it will!""Not, I say, because I thi

if I do you won't have any excuse for not telling me yourlife-history, and you wouldn't believe how inquisitive I am. Well, inthe first place, I live in America

g!" said G

,you know. One of those just-as-good homes which are never assatisfactory as the real kind. My father and mother both died a goodmany years ago

mine was. But thetrouble was that, while an excellent man to have looking after one'smoney, he wasn't a very lovable character. He was very hard. Hard! Hewas as hard as--well, nearly as hard as this seat. He hated poorFill...""Phil?""I broke it to you just now that my brother's name was Fillmore.""Oh, your brother. Oh, ah, yes.""He was always picking on poor Fill. And I'm bound to say that Fillrather la

t. I mean to say,you must have had an awful time in New York, didn't you? How on earthdid you get along?""Oh, we found work. My brother tried one or two things, and finallybecame an assistant stage-manager with some theatre people. The onlything I coul

sit on the sands here and watch theseFrenchmen bathing. It's just heavenly to lie back and watch a twohundred and fifty pound man, coming along and feel that he isn't goingto dance with me.""But, I say! How absolutely rotten it must have been for you!""Well, I'll tell you one thing. It's going to make me a verydomesticated wife one of these days. You won't find me gadding about ingilded jazz-palaces! For me, a little place in the country somewhere,with my knitting and a

degroom calledupon at a wedding-breakfast to respond to the

about myself, yo

hink of nothing else but schemes for harassingpoor Jules. Leave him alone for a second, and start telling me aboutyourself.""Where shall I start?""Well, not with your childhood, I think. We'll skip that.""Well..." Ginger Kemp knitted his brow, searching for a dramaticopening. "Well, I'm more or less what you might call an orphan, likeyou. I mean to say, both my people are dead and all that sort of thing.""Thanks for explaining. That has made it quite clear."

good or bad

say it's a scrum-half, but can't you make it easier?""The scrum-half," said Ginger, "is the half who works the scrum. Heslings the pill out to the fly-half, who starts the three-quartersgoing. I don't know if you understand?""I don't.""It's dashed hard to explain," said Ginger Kemp, unhappily. "I mean, Idon't think I've ever met anyone before who didn't know what ascrum-half was.""Well, I can see that it has something to do with foo

y, but I'd always supposed that wewere pretty well off; and then it turned out that I hadn't anything atall. I'm bound to say it was a bit of a jar. I had to come down fromCambridge and go to work in my uncle's office. Of course, I made anabsolute hash of it.""Why, of course?""Well, I'm not a very clever sort of chap, you

said Ginge

was a

out Scrymgeour

morning.""And what did you say he used to do for Mr. Scrymgeour?""Oh, it's called devilling. My cousin's at the Bar, too--one of ourrising nibs, as a matter of fact...""I thought he was a lawyer of some kind.""He's got a long way beyond it now, but when he started he used to devilfor Scrymgeour--assist him, don't you know. His name's Carmyle, youknow. Perhaps you've heard o

f you're fond of

old brute," said Ginger, frowning again, "has a dog. A very jollylittle spaniel. Great pal of mine. And Scrymgeour is the sort of foolwho oughtn't to be allowed to own a dog. He's one of those asses whoisn't fit to own a dog. As a matter of fact, of all the blighted,pompous, bullying, shrivelled-soul

crawled under a chair. You'd have thought anyone would havelet it go at that, but would old Scrymgeour? Not a bit of it! Of all thepoisonous...""Yes, I know. Go on.""Well, the thing ended in the blighter hauling him out fro

he stick and broke itinto about eleven pieces, and by great good luck it was a stick hehappened to value rather highly. It had a gold knob and had beenpresented to him by his constituent

ice that hadnothing in it of her customary flippancy. She

hyoung men are wont to do; but even so... "The whole trouble with you,"she said, embarking on a subject on which she held strong views, "isthat..."Her harangue was interrupted by what--at the Normandie, at one o'clockin the morning--practically amounted to a miracle. The front door of thehotel opened, and there entered a young man in evening dress. Suchpersons were sufficiently rare at the Normandie, which cateredprincipally for the staid and middle-aged, and this youth's

on. And a few minutes later, Sally, suddenly awareof an overpowering sleepiness, had switched off her light and jumpedinto bed. Her last waking thought was a regret t