'Miss me?' he echoed. 'No! Why?' 'I wondered if anybody would be looking for you.' 'Why should they look for me?' And then he remembered his manners. 'But

perhaps you want to get back,' he said, in a changed voice.

'No, I don't want to get back,' she replied. 'No, I assure you.' 'You're quite sure it's all right for you?' 'Perfectly all right.' And again they were still. The launch twanged and hooted, somebody was

singing. Then as if the night smashed, suddenly there was a great

shout, a confusion of shouting, warring on the water, then the horrid

noise of paddles reversed and churned violently.

Gerald sat up, and Gudrun looked at him in fear.

'Somebody in the water,' he said, angrily, and desperately, looking

keenly across the dusk. 'Can you row up?' 'Where, to the launch?' asked Gudrun, in nervous panic.

'Yes.' 'You'll tell me if I don't steer straight,' she said, in nervous

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apprehension.

'You keep pretty level,' he said, and the canoe hastened forward.

The shouting and the noise continued, sounding horrid through the dusk,

over the surface of the water.

'Wasn't this BOUND to happen?' said Gudrun, with heavy hateful irony.

But he hardly heard, and she glanced over her shoulder to see her way.

The half-dark waters were sprinkled with lovely bubbles of swaying

lights, the launch did not look far off. She was rocking her lights in

the early night. Gudrun rowed as hard as she could. But now that it was

a serious matter, she seemed uncertain and clumsy in her stroke, it was

difficult to paddle swiftly. She glanced at his face. He was looking

fixedly into the darkness, very keen and alert and single in himself,

instrumental. Her heart sank, she seemed to die a death. 'Of course,'

she said to herself, 'nobody will be drowned. Of course they won't. It

would be too extravagant and sensational.' But her heart was cold,

because of his sharp impersonal face. It was as if he belonged

naturally to dread and catastrophe, as if he were himself again.

Then there came a child's voice, a girl's high, piercing shriek: 'Di--Di--Di--Di--Oh Di--Oh Di--Oh Di!' The blood ran cold in Gudrun's veins.

'It's Diana, is it,' muttered Gerald. 'The young monkey, she'd have to

be up to some of her tricks.' And he glanced again at the paddle, the boat was not going quickly

enough for him. It made Gudrun almost helpless at the rowing, this

nervous stress. She kept up with all her might. Still the voices were

calling and answering.




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