As he passed
the prow of a tall pleasure-boat he was caught in a rope of flowers let
down from above and looped about him with a dexterous hand. He turned
in the pretty fetters and looked up. Above him was a row of a dozen
little girl-faces, set like apple-blossoms along the side of the
vessel. The youngest was not over twelve years of age, the oldest,
fourteen. Each rosy countenance was rippled with laughter, but the
sound was lost in the great turmoil about them. In the center of the
group, a pair of hands put forth under the chin of an older girl, held
the ends of the garland with a determined grip. Her eyes were gray,
her hair was chestnut, her face very fair. Kenkenes recognized her
with a sudden warmth about his heart. The others were strangers to
him. A glance at the plate on the side of the boat showed him that
this was the one he sought. Most willingly he obeyed the insistent
summons of the garland and permitted himself to be drawn to the barge.
There, the same hands showed him the ladder against the side, and a
dozen pretty arms were extended to haul him aboard as he climbed.
But the instant he planted foot on the deck the lovely rout retreated
to shelter at the side of a smiling woman seated in the shadow of fans.
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