"What made Mr. Weatherley ask you?" she demanded.
"Wanted one of his clerks to fill up and found that I played bridge," Arnold answered. "It's rather a bore, isn't it? But, after all, he is my employer."
"Of course you must go and behave your very nicest. Tell me, when have you to start?"
"I ought to be changing in a quarter of an hour. What shall we do till then?"
"Whatever you like," she murmured.
"I am coming to sit at the window with you," he said. "We'll look down at the river and you shall tell me stories about the ships."
She laughed and took his hand as he dragged a chair over to her side. He put his arm around her and her head fell naturally back upon his shoulder. Her eyes sought his. He was leaning forward, gazing down between the curving line of lamp-posts, across the belt of black river with its flecks of yellow light. But Ruth watched him only.
"Arnie," she whispered in his ear, "there are no fairy ships upon the river to-night."
He smiled.
"Why not, little one? You have only to close your eyes."