For a minute, in great and bitter
loneliness Bella stood and watched them; then she followed Hugh.
He had put down his gun and gone slowly up from the hollow and was
walking along the river-bank. He had the look of a man who strolls
in meditation. When he came to his boat where it lay near the roots
of the three big pines, he turned it over--he had been mending its
bottom the morning of yesterday--and began to push it down toward
the plunging stream. The glitter of morning took all the swirlings
and ripplings and plungings of the swift water in its golden hands.
Hugh steadied the boat. Above him on the bank Bella spoke quietly.
"Hugh," she said, "look up at me. What are you going to do?"
He lifted his face, still holding to the boat.
"What are you going to do?" she repeated.
"Why do you want to know? You've heard the truth."
She came down the bank and stood beside him so close that her hair,
loosened by the wind, was blown against his shoulder. She pressed
it back and gazed into his eyes. The inner glow had worn through at
last. She was all warmth, all flame now. She smiled with soft and
parted lips. "Do you think that was the truth of you, my dear," she
said, "_my_ truth of you? I have always seen you as you are.
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