"
"But I saw you the other evening, you remember."
"Yes, but I didn't know you were there. If I had known, I wouldn't have
danced."
All the while--as she talked--her fingers had been busy with the slender,
willow branches. "And now"--she said, abruptly changing the subject, and
smiling as she spoke--"and now, you must turn back to your work."
"But the light is not right," he protested.
"Never mind, you must pretend that it is," she retorted. "Can't you
pretend?"
To humor her, he obeyed, laughing.
"You may look, now," she said, a minute later.
He turned to see her standing close beside him, holding out a charming
little basket that she had woven of the green willows and decorated with
moss and watercress. In the basket, on the cool, damp moss, and lightly
covered with the cress, lay a half dozen fine rainbow trout.
"How pretty!" he exclaimed. "So that is what you have been doing!"
"They are for you," she said simply.
"For me?" he cried.
She nodded brightly; "For you and Mr. Lagrange. I know you like them
because you said you were fishing when you heard my violin. And I thought
that you wouldn't want to leave your picture, to fish for yourself, so I
took them for you.
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