Ralph Stock

“ The sea lay before him, a shimmering sheet of incredible blue; and far off up the stretch of sandy beach a scattered, multicolored crowd watched the bathers sporting in the surf, or listened to the band in the shade of the corso pines.
But Sprague had neither eye nor ear for these things; he had found a paradise of his own, and, following a narrow, winding path round the hillside, he at last came upon it, hidden among the sandstone rocks at the cliff foot—a tiny inlet, complete with sandy beach, blue, transparent waters, and raft anchored out beyond the breakers. ”

“ Sprague admitted airily.
“You see, father owns the land, and I own the raft.”
“How awfully nice!” he added enthusiastically.
“So that strangers are really trespassing.”
“Of course. Poor strangers!”
Her lips pouted faintly.
“Oh, they don't need to be pitied. There are lots of good coves farther round the cliff, and there's Manly, with a beach a mile long, if they only care to go there.”
“Yes, I suppose they could,” admitted Sprague judicially; “but all the same—poor strangers! Poor, poor strangers!” ”

“ The girl dug her hand vigorously into the sand, which pressed a gold bangle farther and farther up her arm.
“I think you're a beast!” she reiterated, with added conviction. “And I'm very, very sorry for—her. She deserves the stained-glass window.”
“How about poor little me?” Sprague suggested humbly.
The curl of her lip was good to see.
“We don't do things like that in Australia Any man worth his salt would get out and work with his hands before he'd do that.”
“That's the trouble,” Sprague admitted resignedly. ”