Then there came a child’s voice, a girl’s high, piercing shriek:
“Di—Di—Di—Di—Oh Di—Oh Di—Oh Di!”
The blood ran cold in Gudrun’s veins.
“It’s Diana, is it,” muttered Gerald. “The young monkey, she’d have to be up to some of her tricks.”
And he glanced again at the paddle, the boat was not going quickly enough for him. It made Gudrun almost helpless at the rowing, this nervous stress. She kept up with all her might. Still the voices were calling and answering.
“Where, where? There you are—that’s it. Which? No—No-o-o. Damn it all, here, here—” Boats were hurrying from all directions to the scene, coloured lanterns could be seen waving close to the surface of the lake, reflections swaying after them in uneven haste. The steamer hooted again, for some unknown reason. Gudrun’s boat was travelling quickly, the lanterns were swinging behind Gerald.
And then again came the child’s high, screaming voice, with a note of weeping and impatience in it now:
“Di—Oh Di—Oh Di—Di—!”
It was a terrible sound, coming through the obscure air of the evening.
“You’d be better if you were in bed, Winnie,” Gerald muttered to himself.