"Is it safe for her?" he cried after Bernel, but the boy's only reply
was a scornful wave of the arm as he pressed on to join her.
Gard had an ample swim, and was dressed and sitting on a rock, when they
came leisurely in, and it seemed to him that never in his life had he
seen anything half so pretty as those shining coils of chestnut hair
with the sea-drops sparkling in them, and the bright energetic face
below, browned with sun and wind, rosy-brown now with her long swim, and
beaded like her hair with pearly drops.
As she swept along below, she gave just one quick up-glance, and then,
with completest ignorance of his presence, turned her head to Bernel and
chattered away to him with most determined nonchalance.
She and Bernel used the long effective side-stroke almost entirely, and
the little arm that flashed in and out so tirelessly was as white as the
garment that fluttered in wavy convolutions about the lithe little body
below.
Gard, as he watched her, felt like a discoverer of hidden treasure,
overwhelmed and intoxicated with the wonder of unexpected riches.
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