body to interrupt and nobody to overhear! He should have done it before. He had wasted precious, golden time, hanging about while futile men chattered to her of things that could not possibly be of interest. But he had done the right thing at last. He had got her. She must listen to him now. She could not help listening. They were the only inhabitants of this new world.
He looked back over his shoulder at the world they had left. The last of the Dreevers had rounded the clump of laurels, and was standing at the edge of the water, gazing perplexedly after the retreating canoe.
"These poets put a thing very neatly sometimes," said Jimmy reflectively, as he dug the paddle into the water. "The man who said, 'Distance lends enchantment to the view,' for instance. Dreever looks quite nice when you see him as far away as this, with a good strip of water in between."
Molly, gazing over the side of the boat into the lake, abstained from feasting her eyes on the picturesque spectacle.
"Why did you do it?" she said, in a low voice.
Jimmy shipped the paddle, and allowed the canoe to drift. The ripple of the water against the prow sounded clear and thin in the stillness. The world seemed asleep. The sun blazed down, turning the water to flame. The air was hot, with the damp electrical heat that heralds a thunderstorm. Molly's face looked small and cool in the shade of her big