5
The setting sun was no more than a thin crimson streak on the dividing line of sky and sea; and the peaceful billows whispered mysteriously in the dusk that rose from every side.
It was time to go. When we were both standing, so frail and insignificant on the great empty beach, a wave of passionate gratitude overwhelmed both our hearts; and I at last believed that all nature—the sea, the meadows and the fields—had wrought its work of love and beauty in my Rose.