The sound of the thirty-six variations still came very faintly over the water. The sun sent cataracts of warm light across all the estuary. The water lapped against the boat, and Audrey was overwhelmed by the inexplicable marvel of being alive in the gorgeous universe.
“I shall have to back water,” she said, low. “There’s no room to turn round here.”
“I suppose we’d better say as little about it as possible,” he ventured.
“Oh! Not a word! Not a word till it’s done.”
“Yes, of course.” He was drenched in an agitating satisfaction.
Five bells rang clear from the yacht, overmastering the thirty-six variations.
Audrey thought:
“So he’d never agree, wouldn’t he, Madame Piriac!”