Their absent-minded manner of living in time with the leisurely course of the summer had never had a guest to reckon with, and they could not see that the child Berenice was more afraid of them than she was of the sea and the ants and the wind in the trees at night.
On the third day, Sophia cam into the guest room and said, “Well, that does it. She’s impossible. I got her to dive, but it didn’t help.”
“Did she really dive?” Grandmother asked.
“Yes, really. I gave her a shove and she dived.”
“Oh,” Grandmother said. “And then what?”
“Her hair can’t take salt water,” explained Sophia sadly. “It looks awful. And it was her hair I liked.”
-from The Summer Book by Tove Jansson