Nelly withdrew her hands and sat up.
'George, we must go home.

You must have a good night.' He obeyed her, took up the oars, and pulled swiftly to the boathouse.
She sat in a kind of dream.

It was all over, the heavenly time--all done.

She had had the very best of life--could it ever come again?
In her pain and her longing she was strangely conscious of growth and change.

The Nelly of three weeks back seemed to have nothing to do with her present self, to be another human being altogether.
He made her go to bed, and remained in the sitting-room himself, under pretence of some papers he must put in order.