Page:The Garden Party (Mansfield).djvu/239

Rh liner. “You got Mrs. Hammond on board, ain’t yer?”

“Yes, yes!” said Hammond, and he kept by the harbour-master’s side. “Mrs. Hammond’s there. Hul-lo! We shan’t be long now!”

With her telephone ring-ringing, the thrum of her screw filling the air, the big liner bore down on them, cutting sharp through the dark water so that big white shavings curled to either side. Hammond and the harbour-master kept in front of the rest. Hammond took off his hat; he raked the decks—they were crammed with passengers; he waved his hat and bawled a loud, strange “Hul-lo!” across the water, and then turned round and burst out laughing and said something—nothing—to old Captain Johnson.

“Seen her?” asked the harbour-master.

“No, not yet. Steady—wait a bit!” And suddenly, between two great clumsy idiots—“Get out of the way there!” he signed with his umbrella—he saw a hand raised—a white glove shaking a handkerchief. Another moment, and—thank God, thank God!—there she was. There was Janey. There was Mrs. Hammond, yes, yes, yes—standing by the rail and smiling and nodding and waving her handkerchief.

“Well, that’s first class—first class! Well, well, well!” He positively stamped. Like 235