The whole otherworld, wet and remote, he had to
himself. He could move into the pure translucency of the grey,
uncreated water.
Gudrun stood by the stone wall, watching.
'How I envy him,' she said, in low, desirous tones.
'Ugh!' shivered Ursula. 'So cold!'
'Yes, but how good, how really fine, to swim out there!' The sisters
stood watching the swimmer move further into the grey, moist, full
space of the water, pulsing with his own small, invading motion, and
arched over with mist and dim woods.
'Don't you wish it were you?' asked Gudrun, looking at Ursula.
'I do,' said Ursula. 'But I'm not sure--it's so wet.'
'No,' said Gudrun, reluctantly. She stood watching the motion on the
bosom of the water, as if fascinated. He, having swum a certain
distance, turned round and was swimming on his back, looking along the
water at the two girls by the wall. In the faint wash of motion, they
could see his ruddy face, and could feel him watching them.
'It is Gerald Crich,' said Ursula.
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