Page:To-morrow Morning (1927).pdf/218

 Yes—G for giraffe; r. .. . Yes, rrr—double e—n—Green, the color. . . . That's right. . . . Welcome. . . . I beg your pardon? . . . Oh yes, Biltmore—b for baby"

"Yes?" Carrie called, coming in the front door.

"Nothing! Biltmore. . . . Oh, you have it . . . I'm telephoning. . . . Hotel, New York. Welcome. . . . Yes—welcome home—love—l-o-v-e—Mother."

"We're due to-morrow."

Darkness lay under the surge of waves, the smother of foam, ageless and indifferent. Yet it held, lightly rocking in its hand, all the little ships, men in yellow oilskins, the other set of men in blue with gold braid, pots of jam, swaying artificial palms, cockroaches waving nervous feelers, swinging rows of teacups on their hooks, homesick cabin boys, Joe and Evelyn turning to each other in the warm lighted cabin. There they swung, washed over by the waves of that other ocean of the air, upheld toward heaven by dark desolation.