But he was not a philosopher, and dipping the paddle, he drove the canoe across the tranquil lake.
In the meantime, he imagined Ruth studied him with quiet amusement, and wondered whether she thought he was not playing up.

He did not mean to play up; the game was intricate, and, if he were rash, might cost him much.

He had taken off his hat and jacket and effort had brought back the color to his skin.

His thin face had the clean bronze tint of an Indian's; the soft shirt showed the fine-drawn lines of his athletic figure; but Lister was not conscious of this.

He knew his drawbacks, but not all his advantages.
When he had gone some distance and the hotel and houses began to melt into the background, he stopped and let the canoe drift.
"How far shall we go ?" he asked.
Ruth indicated a rocky point, cut off by the glimmering reflection, that seemed to float above the horizon.
"Let's see what is on the other side.