There was nothing in sight.
I was still searching the horizon when I heard a soft footstep on the raft behind me, and a light hand was laid upon my shoulder.

"Forgive me," said the girl's voice.
I turned about.

Miss Croyden was standing behind me.

She had, so I argued, removed her stockings and was standing in her bare feet.

There is something, I am free to confess, about a woman in her bare feet which hits me where I live.