It was cold as death, closing over her head. But she came up at once and began to swim automatically. Her hand struck against the rowboat and she held to that for a moment. Then she edged hand over hand to the ramp and crawled up it on her hands and knees. Then she had to rest.
She was crying and sobbing, lying on the damp salty grass. She was crying because she could not get up. She tried, but she could not remember how to move her feet and her wet skirts twisted around her. She was defeated now.
A car was coming; a great blinding light shone on her as she raised her head. She heard a shot.
“Help!” she called. But she was not sure if she made any sound. She got up on her knees, with a dreadful effort.
“Maggie?” said Neely’s voice. “Is that you?”
“Miss Dolly!” she said. “Go in quick—a
