There was not much wind, the sky was hazy, and on the port hand a stretch of gray water ran back to the horizon.
Geraldine turned and looked through the woods toward the gray water.
And I looked and I looked out on the gray water till I had the cramps.
Then, one hand on a stay rope, she stared across the gray water to the dark tongue of land.
A second later his head showed glistening above the gray water, and he swam toward her with a slow, overhand stroke.
Into the fog the canoe shot; the gray water ran by, high as the gunwales, oily, silent.
In stepping to the thwart his foot slipped, and those on deck saw him disappear under the gray water.
She sat on the boat, dreamily watching the gray water rush by, dreamily ready for whatever might come.
She was almost upon them—only a few hundred yards of gray water separated the two steamers.
Between the Crosses, a low mound rounded black against the gray water.