"It has been a simple existence full of a charm that has meant
more than all the golf and autos and dancing. I have regretted none of
the yachting or the Newport gayeties. None of those things compare at
all with what one finds in poor old Sweetapple Cove, with all its smell
of fish, or even its rains and fogs. These only blot out an outer world
that seems of little interest now, and after a while the sun always comes
out again."
I walked by her side, and after going for a short distance we sat upon a
rock and looked out over the ocean, which extended afar, under a sky that
was dark with mountainous masses of piled-up clouds. The great roll of
the sea struck the foot of the cliffs rather slowly, as if performing
some solemn function, and the swash of the returning water was like some
strange dirge. The very waves had lost their blueness and were tinted
with a leaden, muddy hue.
"It looks as if some awful storm were coming," said Miss Jelliffe.
"It may pass away," I answered, "but I don't generally shine as a weather
prophet."
We sat there for some time, watching the ominous stirring of the clouds,
that seemed like an invading army whose might would soon be unleashed and
burst out with fierce violence. Then, in the distance, we saw a small
boat. The tan-hued sails flapped idly and one could see that the men were
rowing hard.
"They are pulling for their lives," I said. "I hope they get in soon.
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