“We will now bathe,” said a voice at the back of my neck. I gave a grunt and went on with my dream. It was a jolly dream, and nobody got up early in it. “We will now bathe,” repeated Archie. “Go away,” I said distinctly. Archie sat down on my knees and put his damp towel on my face. “When my wife and I took this commodious residence for six weeks,” he said, “and engaged the sea at great expense to come up to its doors twice a day, it was on the distinct understanding that our guests should plunge into it punctually at seven o’clock every morning.”
