He had gone down like the great clod he was.
The water of her pool had closed over him with a dull splash that was like a chuckle of triumph.

He appeared now, beating out with his arms and legs to keep himself afloat, while the Willow's voice came to him in taunting cries.
"Bete noir! Bete noir! Beast! Beast--" Savagely she flung small sticks and tufts of earth down at him; and McTaggart, looking up as he gained his equilibrium, saw her leaning so far over that she seemed almost about to fall.

Her long braids hung down into the chasm, gleaming in the sun.

Her eyes were laughing while her lips taunted him.

He could see the flash of her white teeth.
"Beast! Beast!" He began swimming, still looking up at her.