The languid hours sped by. Clark swam, fished, paddled with the girl, entertained her party in the tug's white painted saloon, and chatted with Mrs. Dibbott, the chaperon, about St. Marys. But most of all he explored the mind of Elsie Worden. It was like opening successive doors to his own intelligence. She startled him with her intuition, delighted him with her keen sense of humor, and seemed to grasp the man's complex nature with superlative ease. And, yielding to her charms, Clark, for the first time in his life, felt that he must go slow. It was a new country to him. Previous experience had left no landmarks here. They were drifting lazily along the shore, miles from the others, when Elsie, after a long pause, glanced at him curiously. "Will you tell me just what you find in music?" "But I don't know anything about it." "Perhaps not, but you feel it, and that's what counts. I've only heard you play twice." "Once," he corrected. "No, I was out on the bay one night, below the blockhouse, when you were playing." Belding's name was on the girl's lips but at the moment Belding did not fit and she went on evenly, "It is something like the rapids." "I'm glad you think that. It's the response that one gets." "That's what I feel. You're an American, aren't you?" "Yes." "I thought so. You see your people are more responsive than we are, and you don't seem so ashamed of enthusiasm." "We can't help it, but it's a little awkward sometimes," his eyes twinkled, "that is in Canada. Now talk about yourself." "There's so little to say. I was asleep for years like every one else in St. Marys, till you came and woke us all up. "And then?" "I realized that life was rather thin and that I wanted a lot of things I'll never get." "Why never,--and what do you want?" "To be part of something bigger than myself," said the girl very slowly. Clark felt an answering throb. That was what he had felt and wanted and achieved. "To feel what the world feels and know something of what the world knows," she added intensely. "I want to work." "That sounds strenuous." She flushed a little. "Won't you take me seriously?" "I beg your pardon. As a matter of fact I've always taken you seriously." "Have you, why?" "Perhaps because I don't know anything about your sex," he answered teasingly. "I never had time,--they're sealed books to me." "So this is your first exploring trip?" "The very first,--and it's not at all what I expected."