Patty will be arriving before supper, and there are the children to
be put to bed."

"Let us go up the canal, then. I have a surprise for you."

They took hands--both her hands in his, their arms held crosswise to
their bodies--and struck out, stroke for stroke. By the third stroke
they were swinging forward in perfect rhythm, each onrush held long
and level on the outside edge and curving only as it slackened.
The air began to sing by Hetty's temples; her skates kept a humming
tune with her lover's. The back of his hand rested warm against her
bosom.

"You skate divinely."

She scarcely heard. The world slipped past and behind her with the
racing trees: she was a bird mated and flying into the sunset.
Ah, here was bliss! Awhile ago she had been faint with love, as
though a cord were being tightened around her heart: it had been hard
for her to speak, hard even to draw breath. Now her lungs opened,
the cord snapped and broke with a sob; and, as the sun's rim dipped,
she flew faster, urgent to overtake and hold it there, to stay its
red glint between the reed-beds, its bloom of brown and purple on the
withered grasses. The wind of her skirt caught up the dead leaves
freshly scattered on the ice and swept them along with her, whirling,
like a train of birds. But, race as she would, the sun sank and the
shadow of the world crept higher behind her shoulder. The last gleam
died; and, lifting her eyes, Hetty saw over its grave, poised in a
clear space of sky, the sickle moon.

She tried to disengage her hand, to point to it: but as his eyes
sought hers with a question, she let it lie and nodded upwards
instead. He saw and understood, and with their faces raised to it
they held on their flight in silence: for lovers may wish with the
new moon, but the first to speak will have wished in vain.

A tapping, as of someone hammering upon metal, sounded from a clump
of willows ahead and upon their right. A woman's voice joined in
scolding. This broke the spell; and with a laugh they disengaged
hands, separated, and let their speed bear them on side by side till
it slackened and they ran to a halt beside the trees.

A barge lay here, hopelessly frozen on its way up the canal. On its
deck a woman, with arms akimbo, stood over a man seated and tinkering
at a kettle. She nodded as they approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sir--you and the lady."

Hetty looked at her lover.

"It's all right," he explained: