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Page 10

CHAPTER I

hours, and meanwhile the fairway sank to a gorge below him.
He was less angry now. From his high perch on the mudbank he could see across the reed beds to the elm tops of Anglersmead. The red brick of the house showed between the elms. He could almost see his mother.
Mrs. Bailey would be at the boundary wall, a nautical sort of brass telescope levelled above the spearheads. She would have followed his zigzag beat into the south-west wind, while the white lug and the little red pennant sank from her sight on the falling ebb. Mrs. Bailey knew the river as well as Denis. She knew what hope he had on a lee shore with that tide. She would see his lug flapping on the bank off Miser's Creek, and would know he was there for four hours. But Mrs. Bailey never did know. She seemed to make a point of not knowing. She refused to accept Denis's frequent maroonings as unfortunate but inevitable delays. If he wasn't back by tea time, she gave the alarm. And the alarm took the shape of an organised relief party, and that humiliating journey over the mud on the shoulder of a pattened fisherman.
" Curse the tide," he said aloud. " And my last day, too." He'd have the centreboard in the dinghy by next holidays, that was some consolation. He was a fool to have gone out on the spring ebb with a wind like that. But, after all, it was the last sail of the holidays. He opened a square tin box. The Emergency Chest he still called it. You never knew, when you were on the sea. But the biscuits were damp with salt, and in any case smelt strongly of tarred twine. There was nothing to do but count the moments till the tide turned, or a relief party was organised.
And to-morrow he went back to Eton. Bursting chestnut trees, untrampled, green cricket pitches, getting up for early school at half past six ; then that curious reshuffling of friends in house and work, and, detaching itself from the general confusion, the fear of being left out. Robin ? Not that Denis minded being alone. He realised now what fun he had had in the Cormorant these holidays. But the

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE hours, and meanwhile what is fairway sank to a gorge below him. He was less angry now. From his high perch on what is mudbank he could see across what is reed beds to what is elm tops of Anglersmead. what is red brick of what is house showed between what is elms. He could almost see his mother. Mrs. Bailey would be at what is boundary wall, a nautical sort of brass telescope levelled above what is spearheads. She would have followed his zigzag beat into what is south-west wind, while what is white lug and what is little red pennant sank from her sight on what is falling ebb. Mrs. Bailey knew what is river as well as Denis. She knew what hope he had on a lee shore with that tide. She would see his lug flapping on what is bank off Miser's Creek, and would know he was there for four hours. But Mrs. Bailey never did know. She seemed to make a point of not knowing. She refused to accept Denis's frequent maroonings as unfortunate but inevitable delays. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Decent Fellows (1930) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 10 where is strong CHAPTER I where is p align="justify" hours, and meanwhile what is fairway sank to a gorge below him. He was less angry now. From his high perch on what is mudbank he could see across what is reed beds to what is elm tops of Anglersmead. what is red brick of what is house showed between what is elms. He could almost see his mother. Mrs. Bailey would be at what is boundary wall, a nautical sort of brass telescope levelled above what is spearheads. She would have followed his zigzag beat into what is south-west wind, while what is white lug and what is little red pennant sank from her sight on what is falling ebb. Mrs. Bailey knew what is river as well as Denis. She knew what hope he had on a lee shore with that tide. She would see his lug flapping on what is bank off Miser's Creek, and would know he was there for four hours. But Mrs. Bailey never did know. She seemed to make a point of not knowing. She refused to accept Denis's frequent maroonings as unfortunate but inevitable delays. If he wasn't back by tea time, she gave what is alarm. And what is alarm took what is shape of an organised relief party, and that humiliating journey over the mud on what is shoulder of a pattened fisherman. " Curse what is tide," he said aloud. " And my last day, too." He'd have what is centreboard in what is dinghy by next holidays, that was some consolation. He was a fool to have gone out on what is spring ebb with a wind like that. But, after all, it was what is last sail of what is holidays. He opened a square tin box. what is Emergency Chest he still called it. You never knew, when you were on what is sea. But what is biscuits were damp with salt, and in any case smelt strongly of tarred twine. There was nothing to do but count what is moments till what is tide turned, or a relief party was organised. And to-morrow he went back to Eton. Bursting chestnut trees, untrampled, green cricket pitches, getting up for early school at half past six ; then that curious reshuffling of friends in house and work, and, detaching itself from what is general confusion, what is fear of being left out. Robin ? Not that Denis minded being alone. He realised now what fun he had had in what is Cormorant these holidays. But what is where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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