The Firing Line | Page 3

self, of him, of a situation which to any
wholesome masculine mind contained the germs of humour, romance,
and all sorts of amusing possibilities, began to be a little irksome to him.
And still her aloofness amused him, too.
"Do you know of any decorous reason why we should not talk to each

other occasionally during this fog?" he asked.
She turned her head, considered him inattentively, then turned it away
again.
"No," she said indifferently; "what did you desire to say?"
Resting on his oars, the unrequited smile still forlornly edging his lips,
he looked at his visitor, who was staring into the fog, lost in her own
reflections; and never a glimmer in her eyes, never a quiver of lid or
lash betrayed any consciousness of his gaze or even of his presence.
And he continued to inspect her with increasing annoyance.
The smooth skin, the vivid lips slightly upcurled, the straight delicate
nose, the cheeks so smoothly rounded where the dark thick lashes
swept their bloom as she looked downward at the water--all this was
abstractly beautiful; very lovely, too, the full column of the neck, and
the rounded arms guiltless of sunburn or tan.
So unusually white were both neck and arms that Hamil ventured to
speak of it, politely, asking her if this was not her first swim that
season.
Voice and question roused her from abstraction; she turned toward him,
then glanced down at her unstained skin.
"My first swim?" she repeated; "oh, you mean my arms? No, I never
burn; they change very little." Straightening up she sat looking across
the boat at him without visible interest at first, then doubtfully, as
though in an effort to say something polite.
"I am really very grateful to you for letting me sit here. Please don't feel
obliged to amuse me during this annoying fog."
"Thank you; you are rather difficult to talk to. But I don't mind trying
at judicious intervals," he said, laughing.
She considered him askance. "If you wish to row in, do so. I did not

mean to keep you here at sea--"
"Oh, I belong out here; I'm from the Ariani yonder; you heard her bell
in the fog. We came from Nassau last night.... Have you ever been to
Nassau?"
The girl nodded listlessly and glanced at the white yacht, now
becoming visible through the thinning mist. Somewhere above in the
viewless void an aura grew and spread into a blinding glory; and all
around, once more, the fog turned into floating golden vapour shot with
rain.
The girl placed both hands on the gunwales as though preparing to rise.
"Not yet!" said Hamil sharply.
"I beg your pardon?"--looking up surprised, still poised lightly on both
palms as though checked at the instant of rising into swift aërial
flight--so light, so buoyant she appeared.
"Don't go overboard," he repeated.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to row you in."
"I wish to swim; I prefer it."
"I am only going to take you to the float--"
"But I don't care to have you. I am perfectly able to swim in--"
"I know you are," he said, swinging clear around in his seat to face her,
"but I put it in the form of a request; will you be kind enough to let me
row you part way to the float? This fog is not ended."
She opened her lips to protest; indeed, for a moment it looked as if she
were going overboard without further argument; then perhaps some
belated idea of civility due him for the hospitality of his boat restrained

her.
"You understand, of course, that I am quite able to swim in," she said.
"Yes; may I now row you part way? The fog is closing in again."
She yielded with a pretty indifference, none the less charming because
there was no flattery in it for him. He now sat facing her, pushing his
oars through the water; and she stole a curious glance at his
features--slightly sullen for the moment--noticing his well-set,
well-shaped head and good shoulders.
That fugitive glance confirmed the impression of recognition in her
mind. He was what she had expected in breeding and physique--the
type usually to be met with where the world can afford to take its
leisure.
As he was not looking at her she ventured to continue her inspection,
leaning back, and dropping her bare arm alongside, to trail her fingers
through the sunlit water.
"Have we not rowed far enough?" she asked presently. "This fog is
apparently going to last forever."
"Like your silence," he said gaily.
Raising her eyes in displeasure she met his own frankly amused.
"Shall I tell you," he asked, "exactly why I insisted on rowing you in?
I'm afraid"--he glanced at her with the quick smile