Times were better then, an' now you'd 'ave a fine steel ship instead of a box of scrap iron." They were passing the rhododendrons, and Verity's quick eyes noted that a summer-house beneath the shade of two venerable elms was unoccupied.
The structure consisted of a rustic roof carried on half a dozen uprights; it had a wooden floor, and held a table and some basket chairs.

The roof and supports were laden with climbing roses, a Virginian creeper, and a passion flower.

The day being Sunday, there were no gardeners in the adjoining shrubbery or rose garden, and anyone seated in the summer-house could see on all sides.
"Drop anchor in 'ere, Coke," said Verity.

"It's cool an' breezy, an' we can 'ave a quiet confab without bein' bothered.

Now, I reelly sent for you to-day to tell you I mean to better the supplies this trip--Yes, honest Injun!"-- for the _Andromeda's_ skipper had clutched the cigar out of his mouth with the expression of a man who vows to heaven that he cannot believe his ears--"I'm goin' to bung in an extry 'undred to-morrow in the way of stores.