Through the darkening light the old boatman had watched her: interested in her in spite of himself, and his scoldings of himself.
When the landing-place was once more comparatively clear, he made his way towards it, across boats, and along planks, swearing at himself while he did so, for an old fool.
He shook Mary's shoulder violently.
"D—— you, I ask you again where you're bound to? Don't sit there, stupid. Where are you going to?"
"I don't know," sighed Mary.
"Come, come; avast with that story. You said a bit ago you'd a card, which was to tell you where to go."
"I had, but I've lost it. Never mind."
She looked again down upon the black mirror below.
He stood by her, striving to put down his better self; but he could not. He shook her again. She looked up, as if she had forgotten him.
"What do you want?" asked she, wearily.