"Would he, I don't know. Perhaps I understand him better than you do."
Belding got up in swift discomfort. "It looks as if you did."
Her lips curved into a smile. "Don't go yet. Doesn't it seem as though all this were meant to be from the beginning, and isn't Mr. Clark in the grip of something bigger than himself?"
"It's pretty big if he is."
"I know, but isn't he a prophet in the wilderness, the wilderness of
Algoma, and he hasn't much honor except what a few of us give him?"
Belding looked at her strangely. This was a new Elsie, who seemed wistful—yet not for him. Her eyes were cloudy with thought and he had a curious sensation that he was at this moment far from her imagination. She turned to him.
"Take me out in your canoe, now."
He felt suddenly and inexpressibly happy. "Come along."
She leaned back against the cushions while Belding dipped a practiced blade in the unruffled stream. The night was clear and the sky studded with innumerable stars.
"Where to?" he said contentedly.