"V-very. Are you?"
He clutched at the weedy rock and dragged himself up. For a moment he lay breathing fast, water dripping from his soaked clothing. Once he feebly touched the glittering fish tail that lay on the rock beside him. It quivered, but needle and thread had been at work there; he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.
When he opened them again she was looking about for a likely place to launch herself into the bay; in fact, she had already started to glide toward the water; the scraping of the scales aroused him, and he sat up.
"I heard singing," he said dreamily, "and I climbed a tree and saw--you! Do you blame me for trying to corroborate a thing like you?"
"You thought I was a real one?"
"I thought that I thought I saw a real one."
She looked at him hopefully.
"Tell me, did my singing compel you to swim out here?"
"I don't know what compelled me."
"But--you were compelled?"