"Come along," shouted Cham. The sun flashed on his paddle. He began singing off key: I know a place where the sun is like gold And the cherryblooms burst with snow And down underneath ... "All right, Missy, step in," said the man in the red sweater who was holding the canoe to the landing with a paddle. "Easy now." "Let m-m-me get in first," said Fanshaw stuttering a little. "I hope this isn't a tippy one." "I'll help you in Missy," said the man in the red sweater. Fanshaw, from the stern seat he had plunked down in, saw the man's big red hand, like a bunch of sausages against the blue dress, clasp her arm, press against the slight curve of her breast as he let her down among the cushions. "Thanks," she said, as she tucked her dress in around her legs, giving the man a long look from under the brim of her hat. "Ou, I'm scared to death, she said, leaning back gingerly. If you tip me over ..." Fanshaw had pushed the canoe out from the landing. Over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of a grin on the face of the man with the red sweater. He paddled desperately. The other canoe was far ahead, black in the broad shimmering reach of the river. He was sweating. He splashed some water into the canoe. "Ou you naughty ... Don't. You've gotten me all wet." "I think I'll take my coat off if you don't mind." "Don't mind me, go as far as you like," giggled Elise. Fanshaw took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. He was trying not to look at the pink legs in stockings of thin black silk with clocks on them that stretched towards him in the canoe, ending in crossed ankles and bronze high heel slippers. "Warm, isn't it?" "Hot, I call it. I hope they don't go awfully far. I don't want to get all sunburned ... A boy swiped my parasol." Her grey eyes flashed in his. She was giggling with her lips apart. "How was that?" How solemn I sound, thought Fanshaw. "I dunno, one o' them souvenir hunters out at the Roadside Inn." She pulled down her babyish-looking hat that had blue and pink roses on it so that it shaded her eyes. "Whew, smell that!" she cried. "Must be a sewer, or marshgas." "Clothespins! Clothespins!" Elise was holding her nose and wriggling in the bottom of the canoe. Then she burst into giggles again and cried: "Gee, this little girl loves the country, nit!" "Now it's better, isn't it?" "I want to eat. Cham's crazy to go so far." "They've got the picnic basket, so I don't see what we can do but follow." "Follow on, follow on," sang Elise derisively. Upstream Cham's canoe had drawn up to the bank under a fringe of trees grey in the noon glare. Behind it a figure in white and a figure in pink, close together, were disappearing into the shadow. "They'll have every single thing eaten up," wailed Elise. "I'm afraid I'm not a very good paddler," said Fanshaw through clenched teeth. "There you go again." "Well, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." "You'll have to get me a new dress, that's all."