d behind him.

'It is of no importance,' came the strong, clanging voice of Gudrun.
She seemed to touch him. But he reached further, the boat swayed
violently. Hermione, however, remained unperturbed. He grasped the
book, under the water, and brought it up, dripping.

'I'm so dreadfully sorry--dreadfully sorry,' repeated Hermione. 'I'm
afraid it was all my fault.'

'It's of no importance--really, I assure you--it doesn't matter in the
least,' said Gudrun loudly, with emphasis, her face flushed scarlet.
And she held out her hand impatiently for the wet book, to have done
with the scene. Gerald gave it to her. He was not quite himself.

'I'm so dreadfully sorry,' repeated Hermione, till both Gerald and
Gudrun were exasperated. 'Is there nothing that can be done?'

'In what way?' asked Gudrun, with cool irony.

'Can't we save the drawings?'

There was a moment's pause, wherein Gudrun made evident all her
refutation of Hermione's persistence.

'I assure you,' said Gudrun, with cutting distinctness, 'the drawings
are quite as good as ever they were, for my purpose. I want them only
for reference.'

'But can't I give you a new book? I wish you'd let me do that. I feel
so truly sorry. I feel it was all my fault.'

'As far as I saw,' said Gudrun, 'it wasn't your fault at all. If there
was any FAULT, it was Mr Crich's. But the whole thing is ENTIRELY
trivial, and it really is ridiculous to take any notice of it.'

Gerald watched Gudrun closely, whilst she repulsed Hermione. There was
a body of cold power in her. He watched her with an insight that
amounted to clairvoyance. He saw her a dangerous, hostile spirit, that
could stand undiminished and unabated. It was so finished, and of such
perfect gesture, moreover.

'I'm awfully glad if it doesn't matter,' he said; 'if there's no real
harm done.'

She looked back at him, with her fine blue eyes, and signalled full
into his spirit, as she said, her voice ringing with intimacy almost
caressive now it was addressed to him:

'Of course, it doesn't matter in the LEAST.'

The bond was established between them, in that look, in her tone. In
her tone, she made the understanding clear--they were of the same kind,
he and she, a sort of diabolic freemasonry subsisted between them.
Henceforward, she knew, she had her power over him. Wherever they met,
they would be secretly associated. And he would be helpless in the
association with her. Her soul exulted.

'Good-bye! I'm