"I am getting on awfully well, and like the life. By the way, it
was through your friend, Lester Cheveril, that I got this
appointment. A jolly decent chap that! I liked him from the first.
It isn't every man who will stand being told he squints without
taking offence. We are hoping to get married next month.
Write--won't you?--and send me your blessing. Much love--Yours
ever,
"JAMES WILLOBY."
Evelyn looked up from the letter with a deep breath of relief. It was so
amazingly satisfactory. She almost forgot the emptiness of her own life
for the moment in her rejoicing over Jim's happiness.
There was a little puddle of sea-water at her feet; and she climbed up
to a comfortable perch on her sheltering rock and turned her face to the
sea. Somehow, it did not seem so desolate as it had seemed five minutes
before. This particular seat was a favourite haunt of hers in the
summer. She loved to watch the tide come foaming up, and to feel the
salt spray in her face.
Five minutes later, a great wave came hurling at the rock on which she
sat, and, breaking in a torrent of foam, deluged her from head to foot.
She started up in swift alarm. The tide was coming in fast--much faster
than she had anticipated. The shore curved inwards in a deep bay just
there, and the cliffs rose sheer and unscalable from it to a
considerable height.
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