limitlessness of the horizon leading her away and away; behind her the city; and, in the moments of her self-consciousness while waiting, sometimes she thought trite things, such as that her back was to the man-made, the artificial, the passing, and her face was to the natural and the enduring. Then she became amused at herself and quoted the slogan of Goldberg's series of cartoons: "Sounds all right, but it doesn't mean anything." Yet, it did mean something and she was there because it did; for it was different to think about affairs in your room and here alone on the edge of the lake; you simply had to hold matters in different proportion.
The daylight was going when, at last, Gregg appeared; the minute before, when she glanced down the beach, no one in particular was about; and now there he was!
She had not admitted to herself, until she caught sight of him, how much she had feared that his move to the boarding-house on Ontario Street must make deteriorating changes in him; but here he was, in bearing, in dress, in manner just as he used to be! She was on her feet and he saw her.
"Hello, Marjorie!" And he took off his straw hat as he came to her just as if he had seen her yesterday and every day before; just as if they were used to meeting here. No; not just like that; she knew it and he knew she did; it was just his way of admitting, by denying, how much he felt.
"Gregg, hello!" she said and stepped to him quickly. Her hand went into his with an impatient impulse which she did not try to check; and she got the satisfaction it sought—his holding hers, not too tight; nothing more meaningless than those crushing clasps and they
