Jimmy did not apologize. The idea did not enter his mind. He was feeling prehistoric. His heart was beating fast, and his mind was in a whirl, but the one definite thought that came to him during the first few seconds of the journey was that he ought to have done this earlier. This was the right way. Pick her up and carry her off, and leave uncles and fathers and butter-haired peers of the realm to look after themselves. This was the way. Alone together in their own little world of water, with nobody to interrupt and nobody to overhear! He should have done it before. He had wasted precious, golden time, hanging about while futile men chattered to her of things that could not possibly be of interest. But he had done the right thing at last. He had got her. She must listen to him now. She could not help listening. They were the only inhabitants of this new world. He looked back over his shoulder at the world they had left. The last of the Dreevers had rounded the clump of laurels, and was standing at the edge of the water, gazing perplexedly after the retreating canoe. "These poets put a thing very neatly sometimes," said Jimmy reflectively, as he dug the paddle into the water. "The man who said, 'Distance lends enchantment to the view,' for instance. Dreever looks quite nice when you see him as far away as this, with a good strip of water in between." Molly, gazing over the side of the boat into the lake, abstained from feasting her eyes on the picturesque spectacle. "Why did you do it?" she said, in a low voice. Jimmy shipped the paddle, and allowed the canoe to drift. The ripple of the water against the prow sounded clear and thin in the stillness. The world seemed asleep. The sun blazed down, turning the water to flame. The air was hot, with the damp electrical heat that heralds a thunderstorm. Molly's face looked small and cool in the shade of her big hat. Jimmy, as he watched her, felt that he had done well. This was, indeed, the way. "Why did you do it?" she said again. "I had to." "Take me back." "No." He took up the paddle, and placed a broader strip of water between the two worlds; then paused once more. "I have something to say to you first," he said. She did not answer. He looked over his shoulder again. His lordship had disappeared. "Do you mind if I smoke?" She nodded. He filled his pipe carefully, and lighted it. The smoke moved sluggishly up through the still air. There was a long silence. A fish jumped close by, falling back in a shower of silver drops. Molly started at the sound, and half-turned. "That was a fish," she said, as a child might have done. Jimmy knocked the ashes out of his pipe. "What made you do it?" he asked abruptly, echoing her own question. She drew her fingers slowly through the water without speaking. "You know what I mean. Dreever told me." She looked up with a flash of spirit, which died away as she spoke. "What right?" She stopped, and looked away again.