"Come, let us turn round," she begged softly.
And they turned the boat's head and rowed again into the dreamy bliss of semi-darkness.
But now he had to strike out with a will, because they were rowing against the current, and he could not prevent his oars from splashing audibly in the water.
"We shan't get off. They will catch us now!" he said.
"Oh, but they are far too happy," she replied, "to be down on other happy people."
"Yes, it looks almost like an enchanted castle; but--who knows? it may be a snare and a delusion."
"Why should it be?"
"Ah, God knows!... Bleeding wounds can be hidden under flowers, and the beauty with which a man may surround himself is often deceptive."
This scepticism displeased her.
"They must be happy!" she cried; "they who have given us so much to-day must have enough for themselves too."