“Splendid, Cateau; you understand it!” said Marie. “Jan, just steer across to those lilies.”
Jan steered, and the little boat glided slowly to a pool coated with duckweed, upon which the white cups of the water-lilies floated amid a wealth of flat, glossy green leaves. Marie bent forward, grasped a lily by its tough slimy stalk, and tugged and tugged until she pulled the flower out of the duckweed.
“Over there, look, there are a lot,” cried Jan, pointing to the other side.
And they glided on between overhanging willows, their silver-leafed branches bending over the water, and a long line of meadow-land, [[187]]and Marie mechanically pulled the muddy flowers out of the water. She no longer heard the laughter of the others; how little Cateau and Etienne were having a lively dispute as to in what fashion an oar was to be handled. She continued, without fear of soiling herself with the mud, wrenching out the flowers, whose stalks she cast at her feet, like so many slippery eels; she wrenched and wrenched so hard that the stalks nearly bruised her hands. Thus too one could wrench a thought from one’s mind, though the heart bled from it.
The young van Ryssels, whom Mathilde did not trust in the boat while Etienne was in it, again consoled themselves with their swing. Tina pushed Nico, who was sitting very dignified, to and fro, whilst Johan, with Lientje sitting between his legs, disported himself on the second swing. But now approached Marie and Etienne, and when Nico was tired of his dignified attitude they both clambered on to the plank.
“High, Eetje, very high!” cried Marie.
Etienne, with his feet firmly placed against the plank, soon sent the swing forward.
“Ah! I see you are a better hand at swinging than at rowing,” cried Marie.
She too pushed the swing forward, and it swung higher and higher, whilst her dress fluttered in the wind, her hat blew off, and a few hairs dangled about her face. She took a deep breath, as high up in the air she hung over Etienne almost horizontally, and swayed up and down. She felt a sensation as if an unfathomable abyss yawned beneath her, and as if she rose higher and higher into the blue sky, borne upward on the wings of a great bird. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowed, and she fain would have let go the ropes, and in a desperate flight plunged herself into space.
Then she caught sight of the four children below, who were staring in open-mouthed and envious wonder at the “big folk” who were allowed to swing so high, and she wanted to call them, but her tongue refused to utter a sound. Etienne was as if intoxicated, and higher, still higher, swung the plank.