She looked to him inquiringly, with perhaps just a touch of indignant displeasure in her expression, waiting for him to explain, as if he had come on purpose to interrupt her.
"I am sorry.

I had no idea you were here, or I would not have come." The next moment he marvelled at himself as to how he had known that this was the right thing to say; for it did not sound polite.
Her displeasure was appeased.
"You have found my pictures, then," she said simply.
"Only this hour, and by chance." By this time he was wondering by what road she had got there.

If she had ridden alone across the bay from Harbour Island, where the Pembrokes lived, she had done a bold thing for a woman, and one, moreover, which, in the state of health in which he had seen her last, would have been impossible to her.
Madame Le Maitre had begun to move slowly, as one who wakes from a happy dream.

He perceived that she was making preparations to mount.
"I cannot understand it," he cried; "how can these pictures come just by chance?
I have heard of the Picture Rocks on Lake Superior, for instance, but I never conceived of anything so distinct, so lovely, as these that I have seen." "The angels make them," said Madame Le Maitre.

She paused again (though her bridle had been gathered in her hand ready for the mount), and looked up again at the rock.
Caius was not unheedful of the force of that soft but absolute assertion, but he must needs speak, if he spoke at all, from his own point of view, not hers.
"I suppose," he said, "that the truth is there is something upon the rock that strikes us as a resemblance, and our imagination furnishes the detail that perfects the picture." "In that case would you not see one thing and I another ?" Now for the first time his eyes followed hers, and on the gray rock immediately opposite he suddenly perceived a picture, without definite edge it is true, but in composition more complete than anything he had seen before.