The mud received her softly, and clung
to her with affection; and for a moment, face downward among the reeds,
Norah clawed for support, like a crab suddenly beached. Then, somehow,
she scrambled to a sitting position, up to her waist in mud and
water--and rocked with laughter. A little way off, the boat swayed
gently on the ruffled surface of the water.
"Well--of all the duffers!" Norah said. She tried to stand, and
forthwith went up to one knee in the mud. Then, seeing that there was
no help for it, she managed to slip into deeper water--not very easy,
for the mud showed a deep attachment to her--and swam to the boat. To
get into it proved beyond her, but, fortunately, the bank was not far
off, and, though her clothes hampered her badly--a riding skirt is the
most inconvenient of swimming suits--she was as much at home as a duck
in the water, and soon got ashore.
Then she inspected herself, standing on the grass, while a pool of
water rapidly widened round her. Alas, for the trim maiden of the
morning! soaked to the skin, her lank hair clinging round her face, her
collar a limp rag, the dye from her red silk tie spreading in artistic
patches on her white blouse! Over all was the rich black mud of the
lagoon, from brow to boot soles. Her hat, once white felt, was a sodden
black-streaked mass; even her hands and face were stiff with mud.
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