“Always,” I answered, and stooped low and kissed the hand I held. And she stooped, too, and quite by chance, and if they saw us from the boat, I did not care.
“And were you deceived?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “for half an hour. You are too honest, Adam. But I love you for it.”
And then we did some other silly things, and cared not for the boat.
“And what of old Goodwin, Eve?” I asked, after some while. “What will he say?”
She laughed again her happy laugh. “What did he say, Adam? He seemed pleased, I thought.”
“Eve,” I cried, “you do not mean”—
“He came there for that purpose, Adam. I confessed to him. He is my friend, I told you.”
“Honest gentleman!” I said. “I beg his pardon. He may have my clam beds if he will.”
“No, no,” she cried, “for they must be mine, too, those clam beds. I will not have them changed.”