For a moment she hesitated, then looked him full in the face, her eyes mutely questioning his.
"I won't," he said. "I promise you that."
"Then I'll come."
"Out on the river?"
"Yes."
"It's for the last time, Edith," he said, sadly; "the very last time."
"I know," she returned. Her lips quivered a little, but her eyes did not falter. Clear and steadfast they looked far beyond him into the future where he had no part. The golden lights in them seemed signal fires now, summoning him mysteriously onward to some high service, not alien, even though apart from her.
They said no more until they were in the boat, swinging out upon the sunlit river. Then Edith glanced at him, half shyly.
"Wasn't last night wonderful?"
"Wasn't it!" he echoed. "I never understood before."