"Why—I had no idea—I—you seemed—I thought"
"If men only could understand women!" she sighed, hopelessly, and real tears started in her eyes.
"If my presence is objectionable"—Murdong stood up and bowed—"I'll take my skiff and my departure"
"Take your shantyboat—and go! It's your boat," she said, and though she said it vehemently, Murdong discovered an undertone in her voice that was pleading.
"Certainly I'll go!" he said. "I'm sorry to have my presence so disagreeable to—to so fair a river personage."
He bowed, and she flushed.
"Oh! You don't understand," she choked, "it isn't—it's"
"Whatever it is, we'll not discuss it," he told her. "It is sufficient to me to know that my departure will bring relief to you."
She rose from her chair and turned to the door. He followed with instinctive politeness. On the bow deck she hesitated as she confronted the high-raised cabin of her gasolene. He sprang to place a chair for her. As she stepped to the seat, she stopped, having accepted his proffered hand.
"You don't know how good you are to me," she
