and eyes.
'You are very beautiful, Madge.' He paused, then added drily, 'The rest is obvious. I fancy Rex Strang's arms won't remain long empty. Good-bye.'
'Grant…' she said, almost whispered, and in her voice was all the speech that needs not words for understanding.
He gave a nasty little laugh. 'I just wanted to show you I wasn't such a bad sort. Coals of fire, you know.'
'Grant…'
He stepped into the canoe and put out a slender, nervous hand.
'Good-bye,' he said.
She folded both her own hands about his.
'Dear, strong hand,' she murmured, and bent and kissed it.
He jerked it away, thrust the canoe out from the bank, dipped the paddle in the swift rush of the current, and entered the head of the riffle where the water poured glassily ere it burst into a white madness of foam.
[1] (Forcible-ha! ha!-comment of Rudolph Heckler on margin.)
