"Yes," he agreed quietly, and there suddenly ran a curious thrill through
her--a feeling that she and he had once been kindred spirits together in
another world.
She felt as if their intimacy had advanced by strides when she spoke
again, and the sensation was one of a strange, quivering delight which
the perfection of the June night seemed to wholly justify. Anyhow, it was
not a moment for probing her inner self with searching questions. She
turned a little and suffered her fingers to trail through the moonlit
water.
"I wonder if you would tell me something?" she said almost diffidently.
"If it lies in my power," he answered courteously.
"You may think it rude," she suggested, with a most unusual attack of
timidity. It had been her habit all her life to command rather than to
request. But somehow the very courtesy with which this man treated her
made her uncertain of herself.
"I shall not think anything so--impossible," he assured her gently, and
again she saw his smile.
"Well," she said, looking up at him intently, "will you--please--let me
into your secret? I promise I won't tell. But do tell me who you are!"
There followed a silence, during which the man leaned a little on his
pole, gazing downwards while he kept the punt motionless. The water
babbled round them with a tinkling murmur that was like the laughter of
fairy voices. They had passed beyond the region of house-boats and
bungalows, and the night was very still.
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