She would have fallen but that he was on the alert to save her. Quite simply and naturally he put his arms round her and lifted her down.
Only for a moment he held her in his embrace, her panting form close to his, her face almost resting on his shoulders, but that moment roused the blood in his fiery heart, and her face went pale.
"Are you hurt?" he murmured.
"No, no!" she said, and she slipped out of his arms and stood a little away from him, the color coming and going in her face; it was the first time that any man's arms, save her father's, had ever encircled her.
"Are you quite sure?" he repeated.
"Quite," she said, then she laughed. "What would have happened if I had slipped?"
"You would have sprained your ankle," he said.
"Sprained my ankle, really?" she repeated, with open eyes.
"Yes, and I should have had to carry you down to the boat," he said, slowly.