“Yes,” she said; “the camp is just round the bend there.”
“Have you lived here long?” he summoned the courage to ask.
Her voice seemed to harmonize with the music of the water, and he found himself mentally repeating her words as one tries to repeat a line of a song which has caught one’s fancy.
“All my life,” she said. “I’ve never been away from it.”
He looked at her wonderingly.
“What is the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing—nothing,” he stammered, coloring; “only it seemed strange—I mean, to have lived in one place out—out in the wilds here, all one’s life.”
She thought this over.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“Oh, in England,” he said. “In the country sometimes, in London at others.”