as his to himself, and yet she was putting it into his hands with heroic selflessness.
They became aware that those on the beach were calling to them and, looking down, they saw that they were beckoning. The cloth was laid; already Nicholas, with the help of Piers, was letting himself down heavily into the unaccustomed posture of sitting on the ground.
"Tea is ready. Come down! Come!" echoed the voices.
The two rose mechanically, like two untroubled puppets, under the blue immensity of heaven, and turned toward the path.
"Your heels are too high for such a rough place," he said. "Let me take your hand."
She placed her hand in his, and he held it in his thin, muscular grasp till they reached the shingle.
