She nodded encouragingly.
"Where did you come from?" he asked abruptly.
"From church."
"Oh! from church. Do you know, I'm very glad to see you—I am, indeed, I hope you'll come often, now that—Excuse me," he broke off with a weak smile, "but I fancy I'm talking nonsense."
She nodded again.
"I am aching all over," he added with a shiver.
She pulled the boat up to the little quay. "Now I wonder where Caleb is," she said to herself, as she stood up and looked around; "but he's like most men, always in the way or out of the way." She turned suddenly with a white face. "Caleb was not with you?"
To her hearty relief Mr. Fogo understood the question and shook his head. She helped him ashore. Though he walked with pain, he made an obvious effort to lighten his weight on her shoulder; and this returning bashfulness was a good sign, she thought. They passed slowly up the steps; at the top he acknowledged her help with a grateful look, but neither spoke until he was seated in a chair by the kitchen fireplace.
Then she withdrew her attention for a moment to glance round upon the clumsy appliances and masculine untidiness of the place. She noticed that fully half the window-panes had been shattered by the explosion; but otherwise the house had barely suffered.
"Is there any brandy or whiskey in the house?"