Molly, gazing over the side of the boat into the lake, abstained from feasting her eyes on the picturesque spectacle.
“Why did you do it?” she said, in a low voice.
Jimmy shipped the paddle and allowed the canoe to drift. The ripple of the water against the prow sounded clear and thin in the stillness. The world seemed asleep. The sun blazed down, turning the water to flame. The air was hot with the damp, electric heat that heralds a thunderstorm. Molly’s face looked small and cool in the shade of her big hat. Jimmy, as he watched her, felt that he had done well. This was, indeed, the way.
“Why did you do it?” she said again.
“I had to.”
“Take me back.”
“No.”
He took up the paddle and placed a broader strip of water between the two worlds, then paused once more.
“I have something to say to you first,” he said.
She did not answer. He looked over his shoulder again. His lordship had disappeared.