Gabriel said nothing.
“You will tell me your name?”
“Yes. Gabriel Strong.”
“I like it.”
“And yours?”
“Joan Gildersedge.”
She made a step towards him suddenly and extended her hand.
“You may kiss it,” she said. “They did that in the old days.”
And then she left him.
But Gabriel rowed home slowly down the Mallan with his head bowed down in thought. There were certain words of an old legend stirring in his heart, and the girl’s eyes followed him.