"Oh, look here," said Eileen, "you might let me come, or are you--are you afraid of--of what the women will say?" She was standing by one of the flour-encrusted mill windows and she began to scratch a clean place on it with her nail. Thrale did not answer for a moment and then he came and stood near her. "What is it?" he asked. "Are you sick of your work here?" "I shouldn't mind a change," she said, intent on enlarging her peep-hole. "One forgets that you are women," said Thrale. "I suppose women are never content with work for work's sake." "If you like," returned Eileen inconsequently. "I can see out now. Why don't we have these windows cleaned sometimes?" "You can have them done while I'm away," he suggested. "I'm coming with you," said Eileen. "Oh! you can come if you like," he said. He thought he was perfectly safe, despite this unusual display of femininity. "You'll have to run the engine," he concluded. "Oh! I'll run the engine," she agreed and looked down at her capable, frankly dirty little hands. 2 The weirs at Marlow and Hedsor had been roaring open-mouthed for ten days before Thrale and Eileen began their journey; but the water had been piling up from below and the floods were working back up river. The fact that none of the weirs above Henley was closed had served to protect Marlow in some degree. There were great floods above Sonning, and from Goring to Culham the country was a vast sheet of water. This water, however, only came down comparatively slowly owing to the dammed condition of the main channel, and a greater proportion of it was absorbed. If the upper weirs had been open, Marlow would have been under water by the middle of December. Not until the launch had been manoeuvred with some difficulty through Boulter's Lock did Thrale begin to realize the full significance of the situation. He had had very great difficulty first in reaching and second in raising the paddles of the Taplow weir. In one place the force of the flood had broken away the structure, but even with the relief this passage had afforded the pressure of water on the paddles was so great that he had been working for more than two hours before the last valve was opened. Eileen had been waiting for him with the launch warped up just below the lock where the force of the stream was not so great. "I don't know whether we shall be able to carry out this job," remarked Thrale when he rejoined her. "Oh, but we must," she expostulated. "Do you see what has happened?" he explained. "All the water is piled up below us. We shall probably find the next locks flood-high, which means that we sha'n't be able to open them." "We must navigate," said Eileen. "Steam round them; shoot the weirs."