“I don’t know,” she replied, in a tone very different from that in which she had spoken at the entrance to the cavern. “I don’t really know. One of the oars must have gone overboard while the boat was moored. I scarcely know what I am to do.”
“I’m afraid you’re in a bad way!” said he, shaking his head. The change in the girl’s tone was very amusing to him. She had become quite demure; but previously, demureness had been in the background. “Yes, I’m afraid your case is a very bad one.”
“So bad as that?” she asked.
“Well, perhaps not quite, but still bad enough,” said he. “What do you want to do?”
“To get home as soon as possible,” she replied, without the pause of a second.
Her tone was expressive. It conveyed to him the notion that she had just asked if he thought that she was an idiot. What could she want to do if not to go home?
“In that case,” said he, “I should advise you to take the oar to the sculling place in the centre of the stern. The boat is a stout one and will scull well.”
“But I don’t know how to scull,” said she, in a tone of real distress; “and I don’t think I can begin to learn just now.”
“There’s something in that,” said he. “If I were only aboard I could teach you in a short time.”
“But—”