With a timidity half-actual, half-assumed, she began to swim back to her starting-point.
Half-way back, feeling tired, she allowed herself a rest in consideration of the fact that this was the longest swim that she had ever undertaken.
Serenely she lay on the water with her hair floating about her.

The morning was perfect, the sea like a lake.

Overhead sailed a gull with no flap of wings.

She wondered how he did it, and longed to do the same.

It must be very nice to be a gull.
Regretfully at length--for she was still feeling a little weary--she resumed her leisurely journey towards the shore.