"We'll feel the breeze directly," said Captain Codd. "Then you'll see
what she can do."
As he spoke, the barge began to slip through the water as a light breeze
took her huge sail and carried her into the stream, where she fell into
line with other craft who were just making a start.
At a pleasant pace, with wind and tide, the Sir Edmund Lyons proceeded
on its way, her skipper cocking his eye aloft and along her decks to
point out various beauties to his passenger which she might otherwise
have overlooked. A comfortable supper was spread on the deck, and Mrs.
Bunker began to think regretfully of the pleasure she had missed in
taking up barge-sailing so late in life.
Greenwich, with its white-fronted hospital and background of trees, was
passed. The air got sensibly cooler, and to Mrs. Bunker it seemed that
the water was not only getting darker, but also lumpy, and she asked two
or three times whether there was any danger.
The skipper laughed gaily, and diving down into the cabin fetched up a
shawl, which he placed carefully round his fair companion's shoulders.
His right hand grasped the tiller, his left stole softly and carefully
round her waist.
"How enjoyable!" said Mrs. Bunker, referring to the evening.
"Glad you like it," said the skipper, who wasn't.
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