"You like it?" Geof inquired, looking up into her face.
"It's as pretty as a tune," she said. "A tune with a lot of harmony to make it really sing. Do you know what I mean?"
"Perfectly," he answered.
Then, as she stepped down and went back to her seat: "I'm going home as passenger," he announced. "We shall have the tide with us and Pietro won't need my help."
"That's right," said Mrs. Daymond. "We want you over here."
The sun had got low enough to shine in under the flaps of the awning, and Geof lifted the canvas from its iron rods, and handed it over to Pietro, who stowed it away, rods and all, in the stern of the gondola. The world seemed to open up immensely bright and big, and the sky struck them with the force of a revelation.
"There, I call this grand!" Geof cried, taking possession of the chair.
