Then he lay down again to screen a tense bit of action that
had occurred late the night before. He had plunged through the
streets for an hour, after leaving the pool, striving to recover
from the twin shocks he had suffered. Then, returning to his hotel,
he became aware that The Hazards of Hortense were still on. He could
hear the roar of the aeroplane propeller and see the lights over the
low buildings that lined his street.
Miserably he was drawn back to the spot where the most important of
all his visions had been rent to tatters. He went to the end of the
pool where he had stood before. Mr. Rosenblatt-hardly could he bring
his mind to utter the hideous syllables-was still dissatisfied with
the sea's might. He wanted bigger billows and meant to have them if
the company stayed on the set all night. He was saying as much with
peevish inflections. Merton stood warming himself over the fire that
still glowed in the brazier.
To him from somewhere beyond the scaffold came now the Montague girl
and Jimmie. The girl was in her blanket, and Jimmie bore a pitcher,
two tin cups, and a package of sandwiches.
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