The girl turned her face towards him with a start, and rowed in silence. Her face was very pale. He was a hook-nosed man, and with that and his bright eyes and his ruffled head, bore a certain likeness to a roused bird of prey.

Always watching his face, the girl instantly answered to the action in her sculling; presently the boat swung round, quivered as from a sudden jerk, and the upper half of the man was stretched out over the stern.

Forsinket indlæg, beklager. Til gengæld skrevet et stenkast fra Themsen og med styr på tidevandet. Dagens tekst:

At oversætte for åbent tæppe føles som at smide tøjet i fuld offentlighed. Alt kan pludselig ses, og alle forskønnende lag – eftertanke, gennemarbejdning, redaktørblik, korrekturlæserredninger – mangler.