The spring stars hung faint and far through thin clouds and the wind was keen from the sea.

A few passengers were out; the deck stewards went about gathering up rugs and chairs for the night.
"Time oughtn't to be reckoned at all at sea, so that people who feel themselves getting old might sail forth into the deep and defy the old man with the hour-glass." "I like the idea.

Such people could become fishers--permanently, and grow very wise from so much brain food." "They wouldn't eat, Mr.Armitage.

Brain-food forsooth! You talk like a breakfast-food advertisement.

My idea--mine, please note--is for such fortunate people to sail in pretty little boats with orange-tinted sails and pick up lost dreams.