He did not pause to reflect upon tides or such trivialities, but, with a growl at being obliged to make the long detour, he rounded the end of the cove and climbed up to the door of the bungalow.

Under the edge of that door he tucked the note he had written.

As soon as this was accomplished he became aware that he had expressed himself very clumsily.

He had not written as he might.

A dozen brilliant thoughts came to him.