"
"How do you know all this of yourself?" he asked, with an amused air.
"_Il se presentait des occasions_," she replied, briefly.
"So I presumed," said he. "Ah? They have thrown out the log. See, we
make progress. If this breeze holds!"
"You are impatient, Mr. Raleigh. You have dear friends at home, whom you
wish to see, who wish to see you?"
"No," he replied, with a certain bitterness in his tone. "There is no
one to whom I hasten, no one who waits to receive me."
"No one? But that is terrible! Then why should you wish to hasten? For
me, I would always be willing to loiter along, to postpone home
indefinitely."
"That is very generous, Mademoiselle."
"Mr. Raleigh"--
"Well?"
"I wish--please--you must not say Mademoiselle. Nobody will address me
so, shortly. Give me my name,--call me Marguerite. _Je vous en prie_."
And she looked up with a blush deepening the apple-bloom of her cheek.
"Marguerite? Does it answer for pearl or for daisy with you?"
"Oh, they called me so because I was such a little round white baby. I
couldn't have been very precious, though, or she never would have parted
with me. Yes, I wish we might drift on some lazy current for years.
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