“Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. ” He woke the glassy water to swirling activity again, and made the deep-blue shapes below writhe and shiver. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. The little streaks upon the germinating area of an egg, the nervous movements of an impatient horse, the trick of a calculating boy, the senses of a fish, the fungus at the root of a garden flower, and the slime upon a sea-wet rock—ten thousand such things bear their witness and are illuminated.
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