But he must needs help her again through the close-grown branches, and into the boat.
She peered at the soft thing she held in her hand.
"It's a bag, a little silk bag.

And there's something in it! Light a match, Geoffrey." He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, and obeyed her.

Their two heads stooped together over the bag.

Helena drew out a handkerchief--torn, with a lace edging.
"That's not a village woman's handkerchief!" she said, wondering.

"And there are initials!" He struck another match, and they distinguished something like F.M.