Again without a word she obeyed him, and he floated beside her,
supporting her. The early sun smote down upon them with increasing
strength. Her face was deathly pale against the red of her cap.

"We must get to shore," said Courteney, observing her.

"That dreadful current!" she gasped through quivering lips.

"No. We can avoid that. It will mean a scamper over the sands when we
get there, but that will do you good. Stay as you are! I will tow you."

Had she been less obedient, he would have found his task infinitely
harder. But she was absolutely submissive to his will. Ten minutes later
he landed her close to his own bathing-cove, which he discovered with
relief to be deserted.

She would have subsided in a heap upon the sand the moment she felt it
warm and dry beneath her feet; but he held her up.

"No. A good run is what you need. Come! Your mackintosh is half-a-mile
away."

She looked at him with dismay, but he remained inexorable. He had no
desire to have her fainting on his hands. As if she had been a boy, he
gripped her by the elbow.

Again she submitted stumblingly to his behest, but when they had covered
half the distance Courteney had mercy.

"You're fagged out," he said. "Rest here while I go and fetch it!"