'Well,' answered Waring, looking down into her blue eyes as they stood
together at the little window, 'it was a watery residence like this,
and if Japheth,--he was always my favorite of the three--had had you
there, my opinion is that he would never have come down at all, but
would have resided permanently on Ararat.'

Silver looked up into his face with a smile, not understanding what he
said, nor asking to understand; it was enough for her that he was
there. And as she gazed her violet eyes grew so deep, so soft, that
the man for once (give him credit, it was the first time) took her
into his arms. 'Silver,' he whispered, bending over her, 'do you love
me?'

'Yes,' she answered in her simple, unconscious way, 'you know I do,
Jarvis.'

No color deepened in her fair face under his ardent gaze; and, after a
moment, he released her, almost roughly. The next day he told old Fog
that he was going.

'Where.'

'Somewhere, this time. I've had enough of Nowhere.'

'Why do you go?'

'Do you want the plain truth, old man? Here it is, then; I am growing
too fond of that girl,--a little more and I shall not be able to leave
her.'