' he said in a low, soft voice, that caressed her
with inexpressible beauty.

And she watched him as he sat near her, very near to 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, having him completely at her mercy.

A dozen or more boats on the lake swung their rosy and moon-like
lanterns low on the water, that reflected as from a fire. In the
distance, the steamer twanged and thrummed and washed with her
faintly-splashing paddles, trailing her strings of coloured lights, and
occasionally lighting up the whole scene luridly with an effusion of
fireworks, Roman candles and sheafs of stars and other simple effects,
illuminating the surface of the water, and showing the boats creeping
round, low down. Then the lovely darkness fell again, the lanterns and
the little threaded lights glimmered softly, there was a muffled
knocking of oars and a waving of music.

Gudrun paddled almost imperceptibly. Gerald could see, not far ahead,
the rich blue and the rose globes of Ursula's lanterns swaying softly
cheek to cheek as Birkin rowed, and iridescent, evanescent gleams
chasing in the wake. He was aware, too, of his own delicately coloured
lights casting their softness behind him.

Gudrun rested her paddle and looked round. The canoe lifted with the
lightest ebbing of the water. Gerald's white knees were very near to
her.

'Isn't it beautiful!' she said softly, as if reverently.

She looked at him, as he leaned back against the faint crystal of the
lantern-light. She could see his face, although it was a pure shadow.
But it was a piece of twilight. And her breast was keen with passion
for him, he was so beautiful in his male stillness and mystery. It wa