CHAPTER VII
Roses red and roses white
Plucked I for my love's delight.
She would none of all my posies,—
Bade me gather her blue roses.
Half the world I wandered through,
Seeking where such flowers grew;
Half the world unto my quest
Answered but with laugh and jest.
It may be beyond the grave
She shall find what she would have.
Oh, 'twas but an idle quest,—
Roses white and red are best!—Blue Roses.
Indeed the sea had not changed. Its waters were low on the mud-banks, and the Marazion bell-buoy clanked and swung in the tide-way. On the white beach-sand dried stumps of sea-poppy shivered and chattered together.
'I don't see the old breakwater,' said Maisie under her breath.
'Let's be thankful that we have as much as we have. I don't believe they've mounted a single
