on the south bank, like a
very modern siren, drying her hair, with Diogenes nipping the new young
grass near her.

She saw them coming. Richard wore a short rough coat and an old alpine
hat of green. His leggings were splashed with mud, and the white horse
was splashed, but there was about the pair of them an air of gallant
achievement.

She rose to greet them. She was blushing a little and with her dark hair
blowing she was "the most beautiful," like the lady in the song.

"I thought no one would be coming," was her apology, "and out here I get
the wind and sun."

"All the old fishermen will be wrecked on the rocks if they get a glimpse
of you," he told her gravely; "you mustn't turn their poor old heads."

And now the white duck murmured.

"The lovely dear, where did you get her?" Anne asked.

"In the hills, to cheer up Diogenes."

He set the white duck down. She shook her feathers and again spoke
interrogatively. And now Diogenes lifted his head and answered. For a few
moments he rent the air with his song of triumph. Then he turned and led
the way to the river. There was a quiet pool in the bend of the bank. The
old drake breasted its shining waters, and presently the white duck
followed. With a sort of restrained coquetry she turned her head from
side to side. All her questions were answered, all her murmurs stilled.

Richard and Anne smiled at each other. "What made you think of it?" she
asked.

"I thought you'd like it."

"I do." She began to twist up her hair.

"Please don't. I like to see it down."

"But people will be coming in."

"Why should we be here when they come? I'll put Ben in the stable--and
we'll go for a walk. Do you know there are violets in the wood?"

From under the red-striped awning of Brinsley's boat Geoffrey Fox saw
Anne's hair blowing like a sable banner in the breeze. He saw Richard's
square figure peaked up to the alpine hat. He saw them enter the wood.

He shut his eyes from the glare of the sun and lay quietly on the
cushions of the little launch. But though his eyes were shut, he could
still see those two figures walking together in the dreamy dimness of the
spring forest.

"What were the ethics of the primitive man?" he asked Brinsley suddenly.
"Did he run away with a woman who belonged to somebody else?"

"Why not?" Brinsley's reel was whirring. "And now if you don't mind, Fox,
you might be ready with the net. If this fish is as big as he pulls, he
will weigh a