The ferryman took his oars, and the unwieldy barge, as it advanced,
disturbed the sleeping stars upon the water and set them into a mad
dance, which gradually calmed down after they had passed. They
touched the other shore and disembarked beneath the great trees. A
cool freshness of damp earth permeated the air under the lofty and
clustered branches, where there seemed to be as many nightingales as
there were leaves. A distant piano began to play a popular waltz.

Servigny took Yvette's arm and very gently slipped his hand around
her waist and gave her a slight hug.

"What are you thinking about?" he said.

"I? About nothing at all. I am very happy!"

"Then you don't love me?"

"Oh, yes, Muscade, I love you, I love you a great deal; only leave
me alone. It is too beautiful here to listen to your nonsense."

He drew her toward him, although she tried, by little pushes, to
extricate herself, and through her soft flannel gown he felt the
warmth of her flesh. He stammered:

"Yvette!"

"Well, what?"

"I do love you!"