her, in the stern of the canoe, his legs coming towards hers, his feet touching hers. And she paddled softly, lingeringly, longing for him to say something meaningful to her. But he remained silent.
“You like this, do you?” she said, in a gentle, solicitous voice.
He laughed shortly.
“There is a space between us,” he said, in the same low, unconscious voice, as if something were speaking out of him. And she was as if magically aware of their being balanced in separation, in the boat. She swooned with acute comprehension and pleasure.
“But I’m very near,” she said caressively, gaily.
“Yet distant, distant,” he said.
Again she was silent with pleasure, before she answered, speaking with a reedy, thrilled voice:
“Yet we cannot very well change, whilst we are on the water.” She caressed him subtly and strangely,