He knew a certain danger in
her, a convulsive madness. But he only laughed the more, turning often
to the little Countess, who was flashing up her face at him.
They all dropped into the water, and were swimming together like a
shoal of seals. Hermione was powerful and unconscious in the water,
large and slow and powerful. Palestra was quick and silent as a water
rat, Gerald wavered and flickered, a white natural shadow. Then, one
after the other, they waded out, and went up to the house.
But Gerald lingered a moment to speak to Gudrun.
'You don't like the water?' he said.
She looked at him with a long, slow inscrutable look, as he stood
before her negligently, the water standing in beads all over his skin.
'I like it very much,' she replied.
He paused, expecting some sort of explanation.
'And you swim?'
'Yes, I swim.'
Still he would not ask her why she would not go in then. He could feel
something ironic in her. He walked away, piqued for the first time.
'Why wouldn't you bathe?' he asked her again, later, when he was once
more the properly-dressed young Englishman.
Pages:
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215