A brisk wind was blowing from the shore,
but the beach itself was sheltered. The sunlight poured over her in a
warm flood. It was a perfect day in May.
Suddenly a curious thing happened. A small stone from nowhere fell with a
smart tap upon her uncovered head! She started, surprised into full
consciousness, and looked around. The shore stretched empty behind her.
There was no sign of life among the grass-grown cliffs, save where
Columbus some little distance away was digging industriously at the root
of a small bush. She searched the fringe of flaming gorse that overhung
the top of the cliff immediately behind her, but quite in vain. Some sea
gulls soared wailing overhead, but no other intruder appeared to disturb
the solitude. She gave up the search and lay down again. Perhaps the wind
had done it, though it did not seem very likely.
The tide was rising, and she would have to move soon in any case. She
would enjoy another ten minutes of her delicious sun-bath ere she
returned for the midday meal that Mrs. Rickett was preparing in the
little thatched cottage next to the forge.
Again she stretched herself luxuriously. Yes, it was better than London;
the soft splashing of waves was better than the laughter of a hundred
voices, better than the roar of a thousand wheels, better than the voice
of a million concerts .
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