"I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. He began to tell me something—and stopped. We are alone and we can say and do what we please. “I dare not,” she answered. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. "It is an ordinary wedding," he added; "some shopkeeper's daughter.
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