“Knew I’d come?”
“Of course.”
“Won’t you shake hands?”
She obeyed. Then she led the way to the dory and thrust his bag far up under the tiny deck to keep it dry. She did not intend to ship any water, but you never could tell.
She pushed out and began to breast the waves, so that later she might safely turn and run before them. The wind sliced the top off an emerald shell and blew it in his face. He laughed, tucked his cap into his pocket, and let his hair blow free. She loved the slight changes that time had wrought in him—just the least suggestion of a wrinkle left on his brow by hard thinking, and a look in his eyes as if he had gazed on things eternal. He kneeled before her as she rowed, so that he could hear what she said.
“How’s the coal?”
“Haven’t thought of it in three years.”
“I thought you were specializing in fuels.”
“So I was, long ago. Your father writes me that you have been studying chemistry yourself.”
“Oh, just playing. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”