By and by he stood still, aware of another presence in the dimness of the neighbouring yard. The only sound in all the world seemed to be a minute tinkling and plashing of water where the stoic swan maintained himself at his duty while other birds slept; but upon the stone rim of the fountain Dan thought he discerned a white figure sitting. He went to the fence between the two lawns to make sure, and found that he was right; a large and graceful woman sat there, leaning over and drawing one hand meditatively to and fro through the water.
“Martha?” he said in a low voice.
She looked up, said “Dan!” under her breath, and came to the fence. “Why, you poor thing! You’re still in that heavy long coat!”
“Am I?” he asked vaguely. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“ ‘Hadn’t noticed?’ In this weather!”
“It is fairly hot,” he said, as though this circumstance had just been called to his attention.
“Then why don’t you take it off?”
“My coat?” he returned absently. “I don’t mind it.”
“I do,” Martha said. “You don’t need to bother about talking to me with your coat off, do you? It’s only a dozen years or so since we hid our shoes and stockings in the harness closet in your stable and ran off barefoot to go wading in the street after a thunderstorm. Take it off.”
“Well——” He complied, explaining, “I just came out to get cool.”