"Thank you, thank you!" he said, with so much of admiration and
gratitude in his voice, that, as if to apologise for it, he said: "I'm
fond of music. But I'm forgetting your tea! Shall we pull back to the
Ferry Hotel and get some?"
"I'm in your hands," she replied, languidly.
He turned-the boat and pulled back along the centre of the lake in
silence. Suddenly she bent forward.
"There is something in the water," she said; "something alive."
"It's a--yes, it's a dog," he said. "That is what you saw drop over the
steamer. By George! the poor little chap looks in distress: seems as if
he were nearly done. Can you steer?" he asked, sharply.
"Oh, yes," she replied, languidly. "Why?"
"Because I'm going for him, and it will help me if you can steer
straight for him. He looks nearly played out."
"Why should you trouble--it's a long way off; it will be drowned before
you can get to it," she said.
"I'll have to go for it anyway," he said, cheerfully; and he began to
row hard.
Distance is deceptive on a lake, and the dog was farther off than they
thought; but Stafford put his back into it as hard as he had done in
his racing days, and Maude Falconer leant back and watched him with
interest, and something even stronger than interest, in her masked
eyes.
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