glare of the sun was dazzling.

"Well, I never did!" she remarked. "But I said to John last night that
I pitied them at sea. He's been washed up by the tide, I suppose, and I
count there'll be more before the day's out. A year come next September
there was six of 'em, gentlefolk, too, who'd been yachting. Eh, but
it's a cruel thing is the sea."

"Where is your husband?" I asked.

"Up chopping wood in Fernham Spinney," she answered. "I'd best send one
of the children for him. He'll have a cart with him. Will you step
inside, sir?"

I shook my head and answered her vaguely. She sent a boy with a
message, and brought me out a chair, dusting it carefully with her
apron.

"You'd best sit down, sir. You look all struck of a heap, so to speak.
Maybe you came upon it sudden."

I was glad enough to sit down, but I answered her at random. She
re-entered the cottage and continued some household duties. I sat quite
still, with my eyes steadily fixed upon a dark object a little to the
left of those white palings. Above my head a starling in a wicker cage
was making an insane cackling, on the green patch in front a couple of
tame rabbits sat and watched me, pink-eyed, imperturbable. Inside I
could hear the slow ticking of an eight-day clock. The woman was
humming to herself as she worked. All these things, which my senses
took quick note of and retained, seemed to me to belong to another