For a second they stood quite still.
"I'm going," he said.
Her arms went suddenly up around his neck. Her lips brushed across his. He felt her body shivering. He caught and held her to him; and then he let her go and went quickly to the end of the wharf and pulled the boat alongside and stepped into it.
He looked up at her standing there against the gray sky. He could see the white patches of her face and her hands and the pale mass of her hair that the wind had loosened. And down through the draggling grayness he distinctly saw her childlike eyes searching for his.
Before he could stop her she was in the boat.
"Get—back."
"I'm going."
"Quick—get—back."
"I'm going—with—you."
"You can't—; you don't know."