There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. "So endeth the first lesson," he said.
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