On The Beach

"Oh well, that's different," he replied.

She could not argue it with him, nor would she have attempted to in that crowd. She said, "Will we be able to meet again before you go?"

"I'll be busy in the daytime, most days," he said. "We might take in a movie one evening, but we'd have to make it soon. We'll be sailing as soon as the work gets completed, and it's going well right now."

They arranged to meet for dinner on the following Tuesday, and she waved good-bye to him and vanished in the crowd. There was nothing of urgency to take him back to the dockyard, and there was still an hour left before the shops shut. He went out into the streets again and walked along the pavements looking at the shopwindows. Presently he came to a sports store, hesitated for a moment, and went in.

In the fishing department he said to the assistant, "I want a spinning outfit, a rod and a reel and a nylon line."

"Certainly, sir," said the assistant. "For yourself?"

The American shook his head. "This is a present for a boy ten years old," he said. "His first rod. I'd like something good quality, but pretty small and light You got anything in Fiberglas?"

The assistant shook his head. "I'm afraid we're right out of those at the moment." He reached down a rod from the rack. "This is a very good little rod in steel."

"How would that stand up in sea water, for rusting? He lives by the sea, and you know what kids are."

"They stand up all right," the assistant said. "We sell a lot of these for sea fishing." He reached for reels while Dwight examined the rod and tested it in his hand. "We have these plastic reels for sea fishing, or I can give you a multiplying reel in stainless steel. They're the better job, of course, but they come out a good deal more expensive."

Dwight examined them. "I think I'll take the multiplier."

He chose the line, and the assistant wrapped the three articles together in a parcel. "Makes a nice present for a boy," he observed.

"Sure," said Dwight. "He'll have a lot of fun with that."

He paid and took the parcel, and went through into that portion of the store that sold children's bicycles and scooters. He said to the girl, "Have you got a Pogo stick?"

"A Pogo stick? I don't think so. I'll ask the manager."

The manager came to him. "I'm afraid we're right out of Pogo sticks. There hasn't been a great deal of demand for them recently, and we sold the last only a few days ago."

"Will you be getting any more in?"

"I put through an order for a dozen. I don't know when they'll arrive. Things are getting just a bit disorganized, you know. It was for a present, I suppose?"

The commander nodded. "I wanted it for a little girl of six."

"We have these scooters. They make a nice present for a little girl that age."

He shook his head. "She's got a scooter."

"We have these children's bicycles, too."

Too bulky and too awkward, but he did not say so. "No, it's a Pogo stick I really want. I think I'll shop around, and maybe come back if I can't get one."

"You might try McEwen's," said the man helpfully. "They might have one left."

He went out and tried McEwen's, but they, too, were out of Pogo sticks. He tried another shop with similar results; Pogo sticks, it seemed, were off the market. The more frustration he encountered, the more it seemed to him that a Pogo stick was what he really wanted, and that nothing else would do. He wandered into Collins Street looking for another toy shop, but here he was out of the toy shop district and in a region of more expensive merchandise.

In the last of the shopping hour he paused before a jeweller's window. It was a shop of good quality; he stood for a time looking in at the windows. Emeralds and diamonds would be best. Emeralds went magnificently with her dark hair.

He went into the shop. "I was thinking of a bracelet," he said to the young man in the black morning coat. "Emeralds and diamonds, perhaps. Emeralds, anyway. The lady's dark, and she likes to wear green. You got anything like that?"

The man went to the safe, and came back with three bracelets which he laid on a black velvet pad. "We have these, sir," he said. "What sort of price had you in mind?"

"I wouldn't know," said the commander. "I want a nice bracelet."

The assistant picked one up. "We have this, which is forty guineas, or this one which is sixty-five guineas. They are very attractive, I think."

"What's that one, there?"

The man picked it up. "That is much more expensive, sir. It's a very beautiful piece." He examined the tiny tag. "That one is two hundred and twenty-five guineas."

It glowed on the black velvet. Dwight picked it up and examined it. The man had spoken the truth when he had said it was a lovely piece. She had nothing like it in her jewel box. He knew that she would love it.

"Would that be English or Australian work?" he asked.