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THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY

body and soul, and every word she said bit like a raw wound. A moment before, and he had felt that she belonged to him. Now, in the first shock of reaction, he saw himself a stranger, an intruder, a trespasser on holy ground.

She saw the movement, and her intuition put her in touch with his thoughts.

"No, no," she cried; "no, Jimmy, not that!"

Their eyes met, and he was satisfied.

They sat there, silent. The rain had lessened its force, and was falling now in a gentle shower. A strip of blue sky, pale and watery, showed through the gray over the hills. On the island close behind them, a thrush had begun to sing.

"What are we to do?" she said, at last. "What can we do?"

"We must wait," he said. "It will all come right. It must. Nothing can stop us now."

The rain had ceased. The blue had routed the gray, and driven it from the sky. The sun, low down in the west, shone out bravely over the lake. The air was cool and fresh.

Jimmy's spirits rose with a bound. He accepted the omen. This was the world as it really was, smiling and friendly, not gray, as he had fancied it. He had won. Nothing could alter that. What remained to be done was trivial. He wondered how he could ever have allowed it to weigh upon him.

After awhile, he pushed the boat out of its shelter on to the glittering water, and seized the paddle.