She nodded gravely. "Yes! I was afraid that you would be drowned. It has indeed happened quite frequently that little yachts were sunk with that wind blowing. And there was no way of saving them."
"Yes, we came off well. But how did you know that we were coming?"
"Well, I saw the people looking out from the quay and I realized that there was a boat in peril."
"But would you have done it for any other boat too?"
Then she remained silent and looked at me long. I thought I saw a mist gathering in her eyes. Her answer sounded timid, as though she dared not say it or feared to be laughed at.
"I was uneasy all morning. The night before too. I have never felt so strangely anxious. Only when I saw your face did I become tranquil."
"Then did you know my face? Had you dreamt of me?"
She shook her head. "Not that I know of. But yet I cannot say that your face is strange to me. I have surely seen it before this." Then as though to herself she whispered: "Where I do not know."
"You knew the Hungarian, didn't you? He seemed to know you."
Elsie laughed, the short clear laugh that has later so often made me happy.