Nor was that all; between that part of the _debris_ where the corpse
was perched and the sand below was one of those long pools of
sea-water edged by shingles, which are common features of that coast.
It seemed that Destiny or Circumstance, more pitiless than Fate and
Hell, determined on our ruin, had forgotten nothing.
The contour of the cove; the way in which the debris had been thrown
across the path we now must follow in order to reach the only place
of egress; the way in which the hideous spectacle of Wynne and the
proof of his guilt had been placed, so that to pass it without seeing
it the passenger must go blindfold; the brilliance of the moon,
intensified by being reflected from the sea; the fulness of the high
tide, and the swell--all was complete! As I stood there with clenched
teeth, like a rat in a trap, a wind seemed to come blowing through my
soul, freezing and burning. I cursed Superstition that was slaying us
both. And I should have cursed Heaven but for the touch of Winnie's
clasping fingers, silky and soft as when I first felt them as a child
in the churchyard.
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