Part 12 (1/2)

She found the silence unbearable. Noel would think her dull, or imagine that she was bored.

”Is this where you do your developing?” she asked in an interested voice, although she remembered perfectly that he had said he used a tool-house for his dark-room.

”No--we've got the tool-house for that. Why, there wouldn't be room to stand up in here. Sometimes I get my things developed and printed for me at a shop, you know. Chemists will generally do it for one--though, of course, I prefer doing my own. But there isn't time, except in the holidays, and then one's always running short of some stuff or other.

The other day I ruined a simply splendid group--awfully good, it would have been: mother and a whole lot of people out on the steps--like we were today, you know--” He paused for sheer lack of breath.

”I hope the one you took today will be good,” said Alex, her heart beating quickly.

”Oh, yes, sure to be, with a day like this. Some fellows say you can get just as much effect on a dull day, using a larger stop, but, of course, that's all nonsense really. I say, I'm not boring you, am I?”

He hardly waited to hear her impa.s.sioned negative before going on, still discussing photographic methods.

It was quite true that Alex was not bored, although she was hardly listening to what he said. But his voice went on and on, and it flattered her that he should want to talk to her so exclusively, as though secure of her sympathy.

”... And they say colour-photography will be the next thing. I believe one could get some jolly good effects down here. Young Eric is all for messing about with beastly paints and stuff, but I don't agree with that.”

”Oh, no!”

”My plan is to get hold of a real outfit, as soon as they get the thing perfected, and then be one of the pioneers, you know. I say, I hope you don't think this is awful cheek--”

”Oh, no!”

”This isn't a bad place for experiments, I will say. You see, you can get the sea, and quite decent scenery, and any amount of view and stuff.

I say, what ages they are finding us,” he broke off suddenly.

Alex felt deeply mortified. Evidently Noel was bored, after all. But in another minute he began to talk again.

”I shouldn't be surprised if one of these days I tried my hand at doing sort of book stuff. You know, photographs for ill.u.s.trations. I believe it's going to pay no end.”

”What sort of things?”

”Oh, scenery, you know, and perhaps houses and things. Sure I'm not boring you?”

”No, indeed, I'm very interested.”

”It is rather interesting,” Noel agreed simply.

”Another thing I'm keen on is swimming. Rather different, you'll say; but then one can't do one thing all the time, and, of course, the swimming is first cla.s.s at school. I went in for some compet.i.tion and stuff last term; high diving, you know.”

”Oh, did you win?”

”Can't say I did. Young Eric got a cup of sorts, racing, but I just missed the diving. Some day I shall have another try, I daresay. You know, I've got rather a funny theory about swimming. I don't know whether you'll see what I mean at all--in fact, I daresay it'll sound more or less mad, to you--but _I_ believe we do it the wrong way.”

”Oh,” said Alex, wis.h.i.+ng at the same time that she could divest herself of the eternal monosyllable. ”Do tell me about it.”

”Well, it's a bit difficult to explain, but _I_ think we're all taught the wrong way to begin with. It doesn't seem to have occurred to any one to look at the way _fishes_ swim.”

Alex thought that Noel must really be very original and clever, and tried to feel more flattered than ever at being selected as the recipient of his theories.

”I believe the whole thing could be revolutionized and done much better--but I'm afraid I'm always simply chockfull of ideas of that kind.”