“You really think so?” she asked musingly.
“I really do.”
He waited, wondering at himself for caring so much about her decision. At last,
“Perhaps you are right,” she said. “Good morning.”
“And I, shall see you to-morrow?” he cried eagerly.
She turned under the first tree. The green shadows played over her hair and dappled her white gown with tremulous silhouettes.
“That,” she laughed softly, tantalizingly, “is in the hands of the gods.”
Her dress showed here and there through the trees for a moment and then was lost to sight. Ethan heaved a sigh. Then he smiled. Then he seized the paddle and shot the canoe toward the outlet.
“Well,” he muttered, “I know how this god will vote!”