He heard her answer.
"I'm all right--Jeems!" His swimming prowess was of little avail now.

He was like a chip.

All his effort was to make of himself a barrier between Marette's soft body and the rocks.

It was not the water itself that he feared, but the rocks.
There were scores and hundreds of them, like the teeth of a mighty grinding machine.

And the jaw was a quarter of a mile in length.