Yes!
there they were.
Fru Kaas turned away; she knew that for the moment she was nothing
more than an old chattel pushed away into a corner.
It was Helene. She knew that they had arrived and thought that she
would row past the house; and thus it was that she had encountered
Rafael, who had simply gone out to amuse himself.
As they had lain on their oars and the boats glided silently past
each other, he thought to himself, "That girl never grew up here,
she is cast in too fine a mould for that; she is not in harmony
with the place." He saw a face whose regular lines, and large grey
eyes, harmonised well with each other, a quiet wise face, across
which all at once there flew a roguish look. He knew it again. It
had done him good before to-day. Our first thought in all
recognitions, in all remembrances--that is to say, if there is
occasion for it--is, has that which we recognise or recall done us
good or evil?
This large mouth, those honest eyes, which have a roguish look
just now, had always, done him good.
"Helene!" he cried, arresting the progress of his boat.
"Rafael!" she answered, blushing crimson and checking her boat
too.
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