Oh, it was terrible,
but I am glad I saw it. Now, I will always understand."
"I don't know what to make of that," said Margaret. "I don't believe in
such stuff at all, but you couldn't make it up, for you didn't know."
"I only know that I played the violin last night, as he played it, and
while I played he came through the woods from the direction of Carneys'.
It was summer and all the flowers were in bloom. He wore gray trousers
and a blue shirt, his head was bare, and his face was beautiful. I could
almost touch him when he sank."
Margaret stood perplexed. "I don't know what to think of that!" she
ejaculated. "I was next to the last person who saw him before he was
drowned. It was late on a June afternoon, and he was dressed as you
describe. He was bareheaded because he had found a quail's nest before
the bird began to brood, and he gathered the eggs in his hat and left it
in a fence corner to get on his way home; they found it afterward."
"Was he coming from Carneys'?"
"He was on that side of the quagmire. Why he ever skirted it so close
as to get caught is a mystery you will have to dream out. I never could
understand it."
"Was he doing something he didn't want my mother to know?"
"Why?"
"Because if he had been, he might have cut close the swamp so he
couldn't be seen from the garden. You know, the whole path straight to
the pool where he sank can be seen from our back door. It's firm on our
side.
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