"It's not for you to keep. We must make a sacrifice. I'll give yours to the Spirit of the Air." She threw the signet as far up into the twilight as she could, and they both listened. "Yours is accepted," she said, triumphantly. "You must give mine to the Water."
"Aren't you afraid the Earth will be jealous?"
He held the ring over the side of the boat.
"Oh, no; the Earth is patient; she knows we'll give her more than a ring. Why do you wait? The Water-spirit will be angry."
"You never told me who gave you this."
"It was my grandmother's engagement ring."
"No; was it? If this ring hadn't been given, neither you nor I would be in the world."
He dropped it into the river. They sat quite still, each knowing perfectly what new train had been started in the other's mind, and neither wanting to unpack the heart with words. A couple of boats came up the river, full of boys and girls, laughing and singing. When they got nearly opposite the pool their voices rang out plainly, complaining of the current, and suggesting turning back.
"What a pity you asked me that about the ring!" Val whispered.
"I'm not sure it was a pity, dear."