CHAPTER XL

In the morning Tony’s familiar scratching at my door reminded me that I was home again, and this time for two long, idle months. I was very sleepy, but I struggled out of bed with half-open eyes, and let him in. As I closed the door again, I trod on one of his paws. He gave a sharp yelp, and then a great wagging of his tail to show that he knew it had been an accident. Jumping on to the bed he scrambled between the sheets, and I followed, taking what room he would give me. I lay trying to go to sleep, while he sprawled over me. Then when he had thoroughly wakened me up he went to sleep himself.

I lay listening to the sea and thinking of what I should do that day. I would bathe after breakfast; I would take Tony with me, which would mean bathing off the sand, for Tony could not dive, and had a foolish habit, when on the rocks, of trying to lap the sea up to the level he wanted it at. But I had forgotten my plastered head; bathing, I supposed, would be out of the question for at least a week. So, when breakfast was over, I stuffed a book into my jacket pocket, and strolled in the direction of Derryaghy woods. I had the long June day before me, and perfect freedom to do just as I pleased with it. The