Tomorrow I must think of my departure, and, as I rowed, I pondered the words that had passed between us.

Not one word of love had there been, and yet, in the very omission of it, avowal had lain on either side.

A strange wooing had been mine--a wooing that precluded the possibility of winning, and yet a wooing that had won.

Aye, it had won; but it might not take.

I made fine distinctions and quaint paradoxes as I tugged at my oars, for the human mind is a curiously complex thing, and with some of us there is no such spur to humour as the sting of pain.
Roxalanne sat white and very thoughtful, but with veiled eyes, so that I might guess nothing of what passed within her mind.
At last we reached the chateau, and as I brought the boat to the terrace steps, it was Saint-Eustache who came forward to offer his wrist to Mademoiselle.
He noted the pallor of her face, and darted me a quick, suspicion-laden glance.