with cold, and ran down the road to the bridge. There, warm, they started walking hand in hand.
A flush came into the sky. The waned2
down the west, sank into insignificance4
. On the shadowy land, things began to take life, and plants with great leaves became clear. They came to the beach. The long wastes of shore lay moaning under the dawn and the sea; the ocean was a flat dark strip with a white edge. Over the gloomy sea the sky was red. Quickly the fire spread among the clouds and scattered5
burned to orange, orange to dull gold, and in the golden glitter the sun rose. The sea became glistening7
, as if someone had gone along with a bucket and the light had spilled from it as she walked.
The breakers ran down the shore in long, hoarse8
strokes. Tiny seagulls, like little spray, wheeled above the line of surf. Their crying seemed larger than their bodies. Far away the coast reached, melt into the morning. The tussocky sand hills seemed to sink to a level with the beach. On this shore only they watched the sea and the rising sun, and heard the faint water and the sharp crying of the gulls9