The Doctor was kneeling already.
He showed her how to look, and this brought their cheeks close
together. . . .
"Oh!" cried Miss Marty, suddenly.
"I couldn't help it," said the Doctor.
"And--and you have let him escape!" She buried her face in both
hands, and broke into a fit of weeping.
"I don't care. . . . Yes, I do!" He caught her hands away from her
face and, their hiding being denied her, she leant her brow against
his shoulder. With that, his arm crept around her waist.
For a while he let her sob out her emotion. Then, taking her firmly
by both wrists, he looked once into her eyes, led her to a seat upon
the pebble ridge, and sat himself down beside her.
For a long while they rested there in silence, hand clasped in hand.
The uproar across the river had ceased. They heard only the splash
of the small waterfall and, in its pauses, the call of bird to bird,
mating amid the hazels and the oaks.
They drew apart suddenly, warned by the sound of dipping oars, the
creak of thole-pins; and in a few seconds the rower hove into view,
pulling up-stream as if for dear life. It was Cai Tamblyn. Catching
sight of them, with a sharp exclamation he ceased rowing, held water,
and bringing the boat's nose round, headed in for shore.
"You're wanted, quick!" he called to the Doctor. "They sent me off
in search of you."
"Hey? What? Has there been an accident?"
Cai brought his boat alongside, glanced at Miss Marty, and lowered
his voice.
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