She suddenly sprang up, turned her
back to him, and walked away. He too rose slowly and went to the
water's edge, where, crouching, he began to amuse himself
unconsciously. Picking a daisy he dropped it on the pond, so that the
stem was a keel, the flower floated like a little water lily, staring
with its open face up to the sky. It turned slowly round, in a slow,
slow Dervish dance, as it veered away.
He watched it, then dropped another daisy into the water, and after
that another, and sat watching them with bright, absolved eyes,
crouching near on the bank. Ursula turned to look. A strange feeling
possessed her, as if something were taking place. But it was all
intangible. And some sort of control was being put on her. She could
not know. She could only watch the brilliant little discs of the
daisies veering slowly in travel on the dark, lustrous water. The
little flotilla was drifting into the light, a company of white specks
in the distance.
'Do let us go to the shore, to follow them,' she said, afraid of being
any longer imprisoned on the island.
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