he Greensward to the shore, which was
lined with hundreds of bathing huts, each christened with a name, and each
deserted, for the by-laws of the Frinton Urban District Council judiciously
forbade that the huts should be used as sleeping-chambers. The tide was
very low. They walked over the wide flat sands, and came at length to the
sea's roar, the white tumbling of foamy breakers, and the full force of the
south-east wind. Across the invisible expanse of water could be discerned
the beam of a lightship. And Audrey was aware of mysterious sensations such
as she had not had since she inhabited Flank Hall and used to steal out at
nights to watch the estuary. And she thought solemnly: "Musa is somewhere
near, existing." And then she thought: "What a silly thought! Of course he
is!"

"I see somebody coming!" Mr. Spatt burst out in a dramatic whisper. But the
precaution of whispering was useless, because the next instant, in spite of
himself, he loudly sneezed.

And about two hundred yards off on the sands Audrey made out a moving
figure, which at that distance did in fact seem to have vague appendages
that might have resembled a bag and a fiddle case. But the atmosphere of
the night was deceptive, and the figure as it approached resolved itself
into three figures--a black one in the middle of two white ones. A girl's
coarse laugh came down the wind. It could not conceivably have been the
laugh of any girl who went into the shopping street to buy bridge-markers,
chocolate, bathing costumes or tennis balls. But it might have been--it not
improbably was--the laugh of some girl whose mission was to sell such
things. The trio meandered past, heedless. Mr. Spatt said no word, but he
appreciably winced. The black figure in the midst of the two white ones was
that of his son Siegfried, reputedly so fond of Debussy. As the group
receded and faded, a fragment of a music-hall song floated away from it
into the firmament.

"I'm afraid it's not much use looking any longer," said Mr. Spatt weakly.
"He--he may have gone back to the house. Let us hope so."

At the chief garden gate of the Spatt residence they came upon Miss
Nickall, trying to open it. The sling round her arm made her unmistakable.
And Miss Nickall having allowed them to recover from a pardonable
astonishment at the sight of her who was supposed to be exhausted and in
bed, said cheerfully:

"I've found him, and I've put him up at the Excelsior Hotel."

Mrs. Spatt had