Put the knives on the right, and the forks on the left, and the napkin and the bread between them.

Clara, if you are not hungry in this fine air, you ought to be.

Come and do your duty; come and have some lunch!" She looked up as she spoke.

Clara appeared to have yielded at last to the conspiracy to keep her in the dark.

She had returned slowly to the boat-house doorway, and she was standing alone on the threshold, looking out.