We heard the dip of the paddles, a call—our camp call. In a few minutes the Doctor was with us.
I made excuse the next afternoon to go fishing with André. I kept saying to myself:
"This thing is impossible; there can be no connection between me and any woman who may have been here in camp, and Mr. Ewart says several have been here to his knowledge. What if I do look like some other woman who, years ago, lived and loved here in this wilderness? What have I to do with her? I 'll settle this matter once for all and to my satisfaction; André will tell me. He is romantic; and that girl made a deep impression on him, especially in those circumstances. Now the thought of her has become a fixed idea."
The Doctor sulked a little because he was not of my party.
"I don't approve of your solitude à deux parties; they 're against camp rules."
"Just for this once. André is going to show me something I have wanted to see ever since I came."
He was still growling after I was in the canoe.
"Only this once!" I cried, waving my hand to him before we dipped the paddles.
"She used to wave her hand like that," said André, paddling slowly until I got well regulated to his—what I called—rhythm.
I stared at him. Was this an obsession with him? It began to look like it.