You must remember that Heyst as the Archipelago knew him was not--what shall I say--was not a signalling sort of man.
"The very words that came out of my mouth," said Davidson, "before I laid the boat against the piles.

I could not help it!" Heyst got up from his knees and began carefully folding up the flag thing, which struck Davidson as having the dimensions of a blanket.
"No, nothing wrong," he cried.

His white teeth flashed agreeably below the coppery horizontal bar of his long moustaches.
I don't know whether it was his delicacy or his obesity which prevented Davidson from clambering upon the wharf.

He stood up in the boat, and, above him, Heyst stooped low with urbane smiles, thanking him and apologizing for the liberty, exactly in his usual manner.

Davidson had expected some change in the man, but there was none.