"There's another on the beach that you didn't see."
"I didn't take the time to look."
As the boat had drifted with the tide, the return to the shore was accomplished with difficulty. When he was once more seated opposite her, rowing with even strokes, he noticed that she shivered and a gentleness softened his face.
"You are very cold, aren't you?"
"The air has changed."
"Here, take my coat; it's soaking, but your dress is soaking too."
"It's—very heavy. I don't see how you ever swam in it; it's weighted down,—" and from the pockets she drew forth first a coil of wire, then a wrench, then several drills.
He watched her and delight shone in his face.
"I could have swum the Atlantic in armour to reach you. Do you know, you look like a mermaid with your hair hanging down that way." He was laughing now and the old lazy fondness sounded in his voice. Leaning toward her he rested on the oars. "Rachel, why did you run away from me like that?" he asked, smiling confidentially, and suddenly one of his hands went out to hers.
She drew back and for a moment enveloped herself in taciturnity, but all at once, as if compelled, she brought a defiant glance around to meet his.