It was not a voice which he had ever heard before.
"Give me a cigarette, please--and I want to go back." He leaned over her again, struck a match with trembling fingers and gave her the cigarette.

She smiled at him very faintly.
"Please go back now," she begged.

"Smoke yourself, take me home slowly and say nothing." He obeyed, but his knees were shaking when he stood up.

Slowly, a foot at a time, they passed from the mesh of the lilies out into the broad stream.

Almost as they did so, the yellow rim of the moon came up over the low hills.