.

.

I have dreamed of such a man--several times." The Minster twins gazed soulfully at the Atlantic; Eileen Erroll bit her under lip and stood up suddenly.

"Come on," she said; joined her hands skyward, poised, and plunged.

One after another the others followed and, rising to the surface, struck out shoreward.
On the sunlit sands dozens of young people were hurling tennis-balls at each other.