"Do you mean this girl, Calypso?" "Yes." "Then I think that she will return to you the exact measure of friendship that you offer her.... Because, Mr. Hamil, she is after all not very old in years, and a little sensitive and impressionable." He thought to himself: "She is a rather curious mixture of impulse and reason; of shyness and audacity; of composure and timidity; of courage and cowardice and experience. But there is in her no treachery; nothing mentally unwholesome." They stood silent a moment smiling at each other rather seriously; then her smooth hand slid from his, and she drew a light breath. "What a relief!" she said. "What?" "To know you are the kind of man I knew you were. That sounds rather Irish, doesn't it?..." And under her breath--"perhaps it is. God knows!" Her face grew very grave for a moment, then, as she turned and looked at him, the shadow fell. "Do you know--it was absurd of course--but I could scarcely sleep last night for sheer dread of your coming to-day. And yet I knew what sort of a man you must be; and this morning"--she shook her head--"I couldn't endure any breakfast, and I usually endure lots; so I took a spin down the lake in my chair. When I saw you just now I was trying to brace up on a guava. Listen to me: I am hungry!" "You poor little thing--" "Sympathy satisfies sentiment but appetite prefers oranges. Shall we eat oranges together and become friendly and messy? Are you even _that_ kind of a man? Oh, then if you really are, there's a mixed grove just beyond." So together, shoulder to shoulder, keeping step, they passed through the new grove with its enormous pendent bunches of grape-fruit, and into a second grove where limes and mandarins hung among clusters of lemons and oranges; where kum-quat bushes stood stiffly, studded with egg-shaped, orange-tinted fruit; where tangerines, grape-fruit, and king-oranges grew upon the same tree, and the deep scarlet of ripe Japanese persimmons and the huge tattered fronds of banana trees formed a riotous background. "This tree!" she indicated briefly, reaching up; and her hand was white even among the milky orange bloom--he noticed that as he bent down a laden bough for her. "Pine-oranges," she said, "the most delicious of all. I'll pick and you hold the branch. And please get me a few tangerines--those blood-tangerines up there.... Thank you; and two Japanese persimmons--and two more for yourself.... Have you a knife? Very well; now, break a fan from that saw-palmetto and sweep a place for me on the ground--that way. And now please look very carefully to see if there are any spiders. No spiders? No scorpions? No wood-ticks? Are you sure?" "There _may_ be a bandersnatch," he said doubtfully, dusting the ground with his palmetto fan. She laughed and seated herself on the ground, drew down her short white tennis-skirt as far as it would go over her slim ankles, looked up at him confidently, holding out her hand for his knife.