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"
For
God
’
s
sake
,
Violet
,
drop
the
subject
!
"
exploded
her
husband
.
"
Get
a
new
joke
,
for
God
’
s
sake
!
"
Mrs
.
McKisco
swayed
toward
Mrs
.
Abrams
and
breathed
audibly
:
"
He
’
s
nervous
.
"
"
I
’
m
not
nervous
,
"
disagreed
McKisco
.
"
It
just
happens
I
’
m
not
nervous
at
all
.
"
He
was
burning
visibly
—
a
grayish
flush
had
spread
over
his
face
,
dissolving
all
his
expressions
into
a
vast
ineffectuality
.
Suddenly
remotely
conscious
of
his
condition
he
got
up
to
go
in
the
water
,
followed
by
his
wife
,
and
seizing
the
opportunity
Rosemary
followed
.
Mr
.
McKisco
drew
a
long
breath
,
flung
himself
into
the
shallows
and
began
a
stiff
-
armed
batting
of
the
Mediterranean
,
obviously
intended
to
suggest
a
crawl
—
his
breath
exhausted
he
arose
and
looked
around
with
an
expression
of
surprise
that
he
was
still
in
sight
of
shore
.
"
I
haven
’
t
learned
to
breathe
yet
.
I
never
quite
understood
how
they
breathed
.
"
He
looked
at
Rosemary
inquiringly
.
"
I
think
you
breathe
out
under
water
,
"
she
explained
.
"
And
every
fourth
beat
you
roll
your
head
over
for
air
.
"
"
The
breathing
’
s
the
hardest
part
for
me
.
Shall
we
go
to
the
raft
?
"
The
man
with
the
leonine
head
lay
stretched
out
upon
the
raft
,
which
tipped
back
and
forth
with
the
motion
of
the
water
.
As
Mrs
.
McKisco
reached
for
it
a
sudden
tilt
struck
her
arm
up
roughly
,
whereupon
the
man
started
up
and
pulled
her
on
board
.
