How the smile died away; the sun did not set more surely or more slowly
than that sweet smile of interest died from her lips, but no fear
replaced it at first.

"The friend who was an invalid went to Brighton, as I have said, for his
health, and either fate or Providence took him one night to the Chain
Pier."

I did not look at her; I dared not. My eyes wandered over the running
river, where the crimson clouds were reflected like blood; but I heard a
gasping sound as of breath hardly drawn. I went on:

"The Chain Pier that evening lay in the midst of soft, thick gloom;
there was no sound on it save the low washing of the waves and the
shrill voice of the wind as it played amongst the wooden piles. He sat
silent, absorbed in thought, when suddenly a woman came down the pier--a
tall, beautiful woman, who walked to the end and stood leaning there."

I saw the scarlet poppies fall from the nerveless hands on the green
grass, but the figure by my side seemed to have suddenly turned to
stone. I dare not look at her. The scene was far greater agony to me, I
almost believe, than to her. I went on:

"The woman stood there for some short time in silence; then she became
restless, and looked all around to see if anyone were near.

"Then she walked to the side of the pier. She did not see the dark form
in the corner; she raised something in her arms and dropped it into the
sea."