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Malet, Lucas, 1852-1931

"Deadham Hard"


"Thank you, I don't quite know when I shall be back," she answered over
her shoulder.
For her main desire was to get quit of his unpleasant neighbourhood. She
would go for a long walk by the coast-guard path across the sand-hills,
right out to Stone Horse Head. Would stay out till sundown, in the hope
that by then Jennifer might have seen fit to exchange the manly joys of
ratting for his more prosaic duties at the ferry, and so save her from
further association with his displeasing deputy.
But, the ridge of the Bar reached, other thoughts and impulses took
possession of her. For the sea this afternoon showed an infinitely
beguiling countenance. Not as highway of the nations, still less as
violent and incalculable, holding cruelties of storm and tempest in its
heart, did it present itself to her view; but rather as some gentle,
softly inviting and caressing creature decked forth in the changeful
colours of a dove's neck and breast. Opaline haze veiled the horizon,
shutting off all unrestful sense of distance.


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