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I
nodded
my
head
.
"
But
we
may
be
picked
up
any
moment
by
a
sealing-schooner
.
They
are
plentifully
distributed
over
this
part
of
the
ocean
.
"
"
Why
,
you
are
chilled
through
!
"
she
cried
.
"
Look
!
You
are
shivering
.
Do
n't
deny
it
;
you
are
.
And
here
I
have
been
lying
warm
as
toast
.
"
"
I
do
n't
see
that
it
would
help
matters
if
you
,
too
,
sat
up
and
were
chilled
,
"
I
laughed
.
"
It
will
,
though
,
when
I
learn
to
steer
,
which
I
certainly
shall
.
"
She
sat
up
and
began
making
her
simple
toilet
.
She
shook
down
her
hair
,
and
it
fell
about
her
in
a
brown
cloud
,
hiding
her
face
and
shoulders
.
Dear
,
damp
brown
hair
!
I
wanted
to
kiss
it
,
to
ripple
it
through
my
fingers
,
to
bury
my
face
in
it
.
I
gazed
entranced
,
till
the
boat
ran
into
the
wind
and
the
flapping
sail
warned
me
I
was
not
attending
to
my
duties
.
Idealist
and
romanticist
that
I
was
and
always
had
been
in
spite
of
my
analytical
nature
,
yet
I
had
failed
till
now
in
grasping
much
of
the
physical
characteristics
of
love
.
The
love
of
man
and
woman
,
I
had
always
held
,
was
a
sublimated
something
related
to
spirit
,
a
spiritual
bond
that
linked
and
drew
their
souls
together
.
The
bonds
of
the
flesh
had
little
part
in
my
cosmos
of
love
.
But
I
was
learning
the
sweet
lesson
for
myself
that
the
soul
transmuted
itself
,
expressed
itself
,
through
the
flesh
;
that
the
sight
and
sense
and
touch
of
the
loved
one
's
hair
was
as
much
breath
and
voice
and
essence
of
the
spirit
as
the
light
that
shone
from
the
eyes
and
the
thoughts
that
fell
from
the
lips
.
After
all
,
pure
spirit
was
unknowable
,
a
thing
to
be
sensed
and
divined
only
;
nor
could
it
express
itself
in
terms
of
itself
.
Jehovah
was
anthropomorphic
because
he
could
address
himself
to
the
Jews
only
in
terms
of
their
understanding
;
so
he
was
conceived
as
in
their
own
image
,
as
a
cloud
,
a
pillar
of
fire
,
a
tangible
,
physical
something
which
the
mind
of
the
Israelites
could
grasp
.
And
so
I
gazed
upon
Maud
's
light-brown
hair
,
and
loved
it
,
and
learned
more
of
love
than
all
the
poets
and
singers
had
taught
me
with
all
their
songs
and
sonnets
.
She
flung
it
back
with
a
sudden
adroit
movement
,
and
her
face
emerged
,
smiling
.
"
Why
do
n't
women
wear
their
hair
down
always
?
"
I
asked
.
"
It
is
so
much
more
beautiful
.
"
"
If
it
did
n't
tangle
so
dreadfully
,
"
she
laughed
.
"
There
!
I
've
lost
one
of
my
precious
hair-pins
!
"
I
neglected
the
boat
and
had
the
sail
spilling
the
wind
again
and
again
,
such
was
my
delight
in
following
her
every
movement
as
she
searched
through
the
blankets
for
the
pin
.
I
was
surprised
,
and
joyfully
,
that
she
was
so
much
the
woman
,
and
the
display
of
each
trait
and
mannerism
that
was
characteristically
feminine
gave
me
keener
joy
.
