the ocean in my ears, the strong sea wind blowing into the open window.
"She is asleep," I thought, and I leaned from the window and peered out into the east.
The sea called to me, tossing its thousand arms; the soaring gulls, dipping, rising, wheeling above the sand-bar, screamed and clamoured for a playmate. I slipped into my bathing suit, dropped from the window upon the soft sand, and in a moment had plunged head foremost into the surf, swimming beneath the waves toward the open sea.
Under the tossing ocean the voice of the waters was in my ears a low, sweet voice, intimate, mysterious. Through singing foam and broad, green, glassy depths, by whispering sandy channels atrail with seaweed, and on, on, out into the vague, cool sea, I sped, rising to the top, sinking, gliding. Then at last I flung myself out of water, hands raised, and the clamour of the gulls filled my ears.
As I lay, breathing fast, drifting on the sea, far out beyond the gulls I saw a flash of white, and an arm was lifted, signalling me.
"Daisy!" I called.
A clear hail came across the water, distinct on the sea wind, and at the same instant we raised our hands and moved toward each other.
How we laughed as we met in the sea! The
