"For me, yes." ... After a moment, turning from her pole: "Do you not find it agreeable?"
"Certainly. What little river is this?"
"The Récollette."
"It flows by Saïs, too. I did not recognize it for the same. The Récollette is swifter and shallower below Saïs."
"You know Saïs, then?"
"I live there in summer."
"Oh. And in winter?"
"Paris."
An unconscious sigh of relief escaped her, that it was not necessary to play the spy with this man. It was the other man who interested Wildresse.
The girl poled on in silence for a while, then deftly guided the Lys into the cool green shadow of a huge oak which overhung the water, the lower branches touching it.