Then she wrung them out and spread them one by one on the flat water-washed stones around, which were by now thoroughly warmed with the sun.

Next she climbed to a pool under the shadow of the steep bank, in the rock-bed of the river, where she bathed her bruises and washed the sand and mud from her hair and feet.

Her bath finished, she returned and sat herself on a slab of flat stone out of the glare of the sun, and ate her breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, reflecting meanwhile on the position in which she found herself.

Her heart was very sore and heavy, and almost could she wish that she were lying deep beneath those rushing waters.

She had counted upon death, and now she was not dead; indeed, she with her shame and trouble might yet live for many a year.
She was as one who in her sleep had seemed to soar on angels' wings far into the airy depths, and then awakened with a start to find that she had tumbled from her bed.