He changed his tone, "Rain left off? I must get my bike and rush home to dinner. I live in
Herne Bay--came out for a spin this morning."
He nodded at me in a friendly way, and went out with a swagger.
"Do you know who he is, Jermyn?" I asked.
The North Sea pilot shook his head, dismally. "Fancy losing a ship in that silly fashion!
Oh, dear! oh dear!" he groaned in lugubrious tones, spreading his damp handkerchief
again like a curtain before the glowing grate.
On going out I exchanged a glance and a smile (strictly proper) with the respectable Miss
Blank, barmaid of the Three Crows.
