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