"I did not think--I did not mean to speak of that miserable, miserable night.

And _I_ to be harsh with you for not caring to go back to Carlow!" "Your harshness," he laughed.

"A waft of eider." "We must go," she said.

He did not move, but sat staring at her like a thirsty man drinking.

With an impulsive and pretty gesture she reached out her hand to him.