!’

It was a terrible sound, coming through the obscure air of the evening.

‘You’d be better if you were in bed, Winnie,’ Gerald muttered to himself.

He was stooping unlacing his shoes, pushing them off with the foot. Then he threw his soft hat into the bottom of the boat.

‘You can’t go into the water with your hurt hand,’ said Gudrun, panting, in a low voice of horror.

‘What? It won’t hurt.’

He had struggled out of his jacket, and had dropped it between his feet. He sat bare-headed, all in white now. He felt the belt at his waist. They were nearing the launch, which stood still big above