Hewet's thoughts had followed some such course as this, for the first
thing he said as they stood on the edge of the cliff was--
"I'd like to be in England!"
Rachel lay down on her elbow, and parted the tall grasses which grew on
the edge, so that she might have a clear view. The water was very calm;
rocking up and down at the base of the cliff, and so clear that one
could see the red of the stones at the bottom of it. So it had been at
the birth of the world, and so it had remained ever since. Probably no
human being had ever broken that water with boat or with body. Obeying
some impulse, she determined to mar that eternity of peace, and threw
the largest pebble she could find. It struck the water, and the ripples
spread out and out. Hewet looked down too.
"It's wonderful," he said, as they widened and ceased. The freshness and
the newness seemed to him wonderful. He threw a pebble next. There was
scarcely any sound.
"But England," Rachel murmured in the absorbed tone of one whose eyes
are concentrated upon some sight. "What d'you want with England?"
"My friends chiefly," he said, "and all the things one does."
He could look at Rachel without her noticing it. She was still absorbed
in the water and the exquisitely pleasant sensations which a little
depth of the sea washing over rocks suggests. He noticed that she was
wearing a dress of deep blue colour, made of a soft thin cotton stuff,
which clung to the shape of her body.
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