A question moved in Elsie's eyes but she did not speak. Clark, taking in the supple grace of her figure and expanding to the candor of her spirit, wondered if now, at the apex of his labors, the color of his future life was being evolved by this girl who was as free and untainted as the winds of Superior. He had at times attempted friendships of another kind and found them unsatisfying and pondered whether this might not be the human solution of that loneliness which he had admitted to her, months before, was only so far assuaged by driving himself to the uttermost. Then her voice came in again.
"It was so queer meeting you here, just as if the voice of the rapids had carried a hundred miles. I always associate you with the rapids."
"But they'll go on forever, and I won't."
"You're doing something better than that," she said swiftly.
He laid down his paddle. "I'd like very much to know just what my new friend means."
"You're touching the hidden springs of things that will go on forever." Elsie's voice was vibrant with feeling. "That's the difference between you and other men I know. You're in the secret."
Clark drew a long breath. "When did you decide that, and why?"
"When I heard about your speech that first night. I was only seventeen then but I felt almost as if you'd told me the secret. So I've followed all you've accomplished since, and I would give anything to have done just the littlest part of it."
"So it's just a matter of recognizing one's destiny and following it?" he said curiously.
"Just that." Complete conviction was in her tones.