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“Is that so?” remarked his wife. “I guess any one would have nerves with a husband like you. Honestly, Shelah, he’s got a better imagination than what’s his name—Shakespeare. If he’d only drop sugar planting and go in for writing scenarios—but never mind us. Tell me all about Hollywood. I'd love to be back.”

“I’m making a long stop here—we’ll have lots of time to chat later,” Shelah explained. “Some of the crowd are going for a swim before dinner. Care to go along?”

Rita put one hand to her perfect coiffure, and shrugged. “Not for me,” she cried. “I’m so sick of swimming I gag at the sight of my tub. You've no idea, my dear—three years married and living in Honolulu—these people over here are like fish. They suffocate when you bring ’em ashore.”

They heard the noise of a new arrival in the hall, and Alan Jaynes came into the room, handsome and upstanding in his dinner clothes. Shelah’s heart sank suddenly at sight of him. While she was introducing him to the Ballous, Julie and Jimmy Bradshaw rushed in, wearing gay beach robes over their bathing-suits. They paused, with obvious reluctance, for further introductions.

“Where’s Miss Dixon?” Bradshaw inquired. “She hasn’t gone out, has she?”

“Nonsense,” cried Julie. “Diana will take ages. She always does.”

“Then the race is between us two,” said the boy, and dashed through the open window on to the lanai, with Julie at his heels.

“What a good-looking boy,” Rita remarked. “Who is he?”