To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. "What of her?" cried the knight. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. "Hist!" exclaimed Jack. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo.
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