"S-sh! It's a grand make-up. Had to be done, you know."
Rosalind, a beautiful, dripping statue of white, shot him a glance of fury and hate. Her drenched costume clung clammily. Wet strands of hair plastered her cheeks, while her eyes blinked painfully from the effects of the deluge.
"Here he is," whispered the boatman as Williams entered the scene. "Remember—I'm a dummy! Talk up now like a rescued lady."
Reginald Williams, momentarily halted by the spectacle of a moist and miserable lady, sprang forward with an anxious cry.
"Rosalind!"
She waved him back and made a wild effort to smooth her hair.
"You're hurt!" cried Reginald. "What's happened?"
"I'm—I'm not hurt," she answered. "Don't be silly. I'm merely wet."
"Wet! You're saturated, child!"
"I'm not a child. Please don't get hysterical, Reggy."