order is to swear. He controlled himself in the presence of strangers,
but in private he let loose and gave himself terrible vent, though he
was himself afraid of every one. She, in sheer horror of the turmoil,
of scenes, of useless explanations, always gave way and never asked for
anything; for a very long time she had not ventured to ask Roland to
take her out in the boat. So she had joyfully hailed this opportunity,
and was keenly enjoying the rare and new pleasure.

From the moment when they started she surrendered herself completely,
body and soul, to the soft, gliding motion over the waves. She was not
thinking; her mind was not wandering through either memories or hopes;
it seemed to her as though her heart, like her body, was floating on
something soft and liquid and delicious which rocked and lulled it.

When their father gave the word to return, "Come, take your places at
the oars!" she smiled to see her sons, her two great boys, take off
their jackets and roll up their shirt-sleeves on their bare arms.

Pierre, who was nearest to the two women, took the stroke oar, Jean the
other, and they sat waiting till the skipper should say: "Give way!" For
he insisted on everything being done according to strict rule.

Simultaneously, as if by a single effort, they dipped the oars, and
lying back, pulling with all their might, began a struggle to display
their strength. They had come out easily, under sail, but the breeze
had died away, and the masculine pride of the two brothers was suddenly
aroused by the prospect of measuring their powers. When they went out
alone with their father they plied the oars without any steering, for
Roland would be busy getting the lines ready, while he kept a lookout in
the boat's course, guiding it by a sign or a word: "Easy, Jean, and you,