"Why, that portrait didn't begin to resemble you—ma'am."
"Please—I asked you!"
"Not to say 'ma'am.' I remember now. But it's so hard not to say 'Rosalind.'"
She made no answer to that.
"I wish you'd lash out at me just as you did when I was a boatman," he went on. "I was getting used to that."
Still Rosalind had no answer. She was groping blindly for her old footing, but could not find it. Everything had gone in the crash.
"Please unfasten the skiff," she said after a pause.
"What for?"
"I—I wish it. I'm going home."
"In a skiff?"