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Chapter 4

           Soofftheystrolleddownthegardenintheusualdirection,pastthetennislawn,pastthepampasgrass,tothatbreakinthethickhedge,guardedbyredhotpokerslikebrasiersofclearburningcoal,betweenwhichthebluewatersofthebaylookedbluerthanever.

           Theycamethereregularlyeveryeveningdrawnbysomeneed.Itwasasifthewaterfloatedoffandsetsailingthoughtswhichhadgrownstagnantondryland,andgavetotheirbodiesevensomesortofphysicalrelief.First,thepulseofcolourfloodedthebaywithblue,andtheheartexpandedwithitandthebodyswam,onlythenextinstanttobecheckedandchilledbythepricklyblacknessontheruffledwaves.Then,upbehindthegreatblackrock,almosteveryeveningspurtedirregularly,sothatonehadtowatchforitanditwasadelightwhenitcame,afountainofwhitewater;andthen,whileonewaitedforthat,onewatched,onthepalesemicircularbeach,waveafterwavesheddingagainandagainsmoothly,afilmofmotherofpearl.

           Theybothsmiled,standingthere.

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