Instantly she was herself again and running before the wind. In fact the unaffrighted boat ran better for its load, though now another inch would swamp it. Marvin began humorously to bail out with an old tin can that looked like battered silver.
But Jean, though guiding her boat with perfect skill, was more deeply plunged in thought than ever she was plunged in her river. Last night she had imagined drowning, how she would set her teeth and stand it. Now she knew that she would have fought like any tigress to reach her mate. She would have set her teeth as in childbirth. She would have struggled to live till she bore him a child.
The battle was over. Instinct had won. She was doomed to motherhood, and her heart was singing with terrible joy.
Marvin with his battered silver still knelt in the water, reducing it inch by inch. She did not speak to him again as on they swept before that wind and that passion. Nor when they reached the upper island did she swerve in, but swept onward to her own.
The little bay received them quietly, and they mounted the cliff. She led the way to a snug and sheltered cranny in the silica, where gray moss had gathered deep. She tore away enough to reveal the stone beneath, and they kindled a fire. She took off her wet moccasins and placed them near the good heat. She unlaced his shoes, drew them off, and set them beside her own. She seated herself in the moss, drew him down beside her, put her arms about his neck and pressed her lips to his.
“Now tell me about the laboratory.”
“Well, the other men will live on the west side of the inlet, but we will live with your father.”
“That’s nice. Am I choking you?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Am I crushing your ribs?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Marvin, I don’t know any more about physics and chemistry than the babe unborn, but could you please explain in words of one syllable what you are going to investigate?”