“Six,” he said firmly. “Sixth post from the end.”

“Good,” smiled Antony. “Mine was the eighteenth⁠—a little way past it.”

“What did you go off for?”

“To see Cayley into bed.”

“Is it all right?”

“Yes. Better hang your coat over the sixth post, and then we shall see it more easily. I’ll put mine on the eighteenth. Are you going to undress here or in the boat?”

“Some here, and some in the boat. You’re quite sure that you wouldn’t like to do the diving yourself?”

“Quite, thanks.”