Keith led her to the wide wooden seat which ran by the side of the deck, and they sat together there.  The noise of the city was dimmer; the lamps were yellowed in the moon’s whiter light; there were occasional movements upon the face of the river.  A long way away they heard a sharp panting as a motor boat rushed through the water, sending out a great surging wave that made all other craft rise and fall and sway as the river’s agitation subsided.  The boat came nearer, a coloured light showing; and presently it hastened past, a moving thing with a muffled figure at its helm; and the Minerva rocked gently almost until the sound of the motor boat’s tuff-tuff had been lost in the general noise of London.  Nearer at hand, above them, Jenny could hear the clanging of tram-gongs and the clatter and slow boom of motor omnibuses; but these sounds were mellowed by the evening, and although they were near enough to be comforting they were too far away to interrupt this pleasant solitude with Keith.  The two of them sat in the shadow, and Jenny craned to hear the chuckle of the water against the yacht’s sides.  It was a beautiful moment in her life....  She gave a little moan, and swayed against Keith, her delight succeeded by deadly languor.

iv

So for a moment they sat, Keith’s arm around her shoulders; and then Jenny moved so as to free herself.  She was restless and unhappy again, her nerves on edge.  The moon and the water, which had soothed her, were now an irritation.  Keith heard her breath come and go, quickly, heavily.

“Sorry, Jenny,” he said, in a tone of puzzled apology.  She caught his fallen hand, pressing it eagerly.

“It’s nothing.  Only that minute.  Like somebody walking on my grave.”

“You’re cold.  We’ll go down to the cabin again.”  He was again cool and unembarrassed.  Together they stood upon the deck in the moonlight, while the water flowed rapidly beneath them and the night’s mystery emphasised their remoteness from the rest of the world.  They had no part, at this moment, in the general life; but were solitary, living only to themselves....

Keith’s arm was about her as they descended; but he let it drop as they stood once more in the golden-brown cabin.  “Sit here!” He plumped a cushion for her, and Jenny sank into an enveloping softness that rose about her as water might have done, so that she might have been alarmed if Keith had not been there looking down with such an expression of concern.

“I’m really all right,” she told him, reassuringly.  “Miserable for a tick—­that’s all!”

“Sure?” He seemed genuinely alarmed, scanning her face.  She had again turned sick and faint, so that her knees were without strength.  Was he sincere?  If only she could have been sure of him.  It meant everything in the world to her.  If only Keith would say he loved her:  if only he would kiss her!  He had never done that.  The few short days of their earlier comradeship had been full