“Fisherman,” she said, “you are not early to-night.”

“I am not,” I said, “and yet I am. For I have haunted this place all day, and yet I feared to come too soon.”

She did not ask me why, but pointed to my basket. “Are these your gatherings?”

I nodded.

“Why, Adam? They are not clams—nor fish.”

“I do not know, Eve. I have done strange things to-day.”

“Are they for me?”

“What shall a governess do with pebbles?”

“They might be useful in my teaching, Adam. Are they for me?”

“If you will. Anything I have is yours”—