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The Strange Attraction

to her. Something had happened to them both since they had parted soberly the night before.

“What a charming dress, dear. It just occurs to me that I have never seen you out of office or riding clothes.”

“I know,” she said regretfully. “And you, how stunning you look in those things.”

They stood in the bow of the boat staring at each other. There were questions and shy evasions in their eyes. Then because this was no place for romance, with the public road only a few chains away and riders likely to be numerous on Saturday afternoon, he moved away and settled a possum rug for her to sit upon at the stern. Then with an oar he pushed the launch off and soon he was making for the other side of the river to avoid boats that might be coming down to Dargaville.

The world was flooded with soft sunshine, and every rush and every mangrove bush and every tree along the bank proclaimed the handiwork of spring.

After half an hour Dane turned in at the narrow mouth of a deep creek and in a minute the river was out of sight behind mangroves. They were soon in a gully with hills shooting up on either side, a gully that was pure beauty from the tree-ferns at the water’s edge to the sun-tinted bush on the skyline. He went more slowly as the stream narrowed, dodging stumps and logs and roots until they came round a bend into an oval pool into which the Diana drifted and stopped.

Valerie drew herself up and looked into that mirror of shaded jade. The sound of a waterfall near explained why it was clear and jewelled with the greens of the hills. She looked round her and caught her breath. Holding the last of the afternoon sun that was finding its way down here was a clump of rimu, and she knew why Dane had brought her.