'Ah!' she answered.
She thought he was getting a little sentimental, too early in the day,
and, with an effort at energy, she said:
'Let's go back to the river.'
They went back, and now Bruce began to show off his rowing powers. He
had not practised for a long time, and didn't get along very quickly.
She admired his athletic talents, as though he had been a winner of the
Diamond Sculls.
'If I'd stuck to it, you know,' he said, rather apologetically, 'I'd
have done well in the rowing line. At one time--a good while ago--I
thought of going in for Henley, in the Regatta, you know. But with that
beastly Foreign Office one can't keep up anything of that sort.'
'I suppose not.'
'My muscle,' said Bruce, sticking out his arm, and hitting it rather
hard, 'is fairly good, you know. Not bad for a London man who never has
any practice.'
'No indeed.'
'My arm was about seventeen inches round just below the elbow at one
time,' Bruce said, 'a few years ago.'
'Just fancy! Splendid!' said Madame Frabelle, who remembered that her
waist was not much more a good while ago.
He told her a good many anecdotes of his prowess in the past, until
tea-time.
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