said. [Pg 108] "One moment, then." She turned and sped to the house, reappearing, after a few minutes, wearing her ragged shooting coat. "Is your father comfortable?" he asked. "Yes, thank you." "Do you think he might want you?" "No. Jim sleeps next to him, and he is preparing for bed, now." She smiled. "What a darling my brother is, isn't he, Mr. Marche?" "He's a fine boy." They moved on together, down the rutted lane, between dismantled fences and ragged, leafless hedges. She was lithe and light and sure footed, but [Pg 109]once or twice, as they skirted puddles, he supported her; and the touch of his hand on her body almost unnerved him. Never had he dreamed that contact with any woman could so thrill, so exquisitely shock. And every instant he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her. He knew it—realized it—made no effort to avoid it, fight it off, control it. It was only his speech and manner that he held desperately under bit and curb, letting his heart go to everlasting smash and his reason run riot. And what on earth would be the end he could not imagine, for he was leaving for the North in the morning, and he had not yet told her. [Pg 109] As they came out upon the shore, the dory loomed up, beached, a dark silhouette [Pg 110]against the starlit water. She laid her hands on the stern and vaulted lightly to her perch, sliding along to make room for Marche. [Pg 110] From far away in the sound came the confused murmur of wild fowl feeding. Except for that, and the ceaseless monotone of the outer sea, there was no sound, not even the lap of water against the bow. Marche, who had been leaning forward, head bent as though watching the water, turned to the girl abruptly. "I want to do something for—Jim," he said. The girl looked up at him, not understanding.
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