light,
and the middle-aged may venture forth without risk of catching cold.
But even on such a night in Thorhaven there is a nipping freshness at
sunset which keeps the mind alert instead of lulling the senses--giving
an exquisite clearness to the thoughts of lovers: at any rate, to the
thoughts of lovers like Laura Temple.

But visitors did not realize this, only remarking to each other with
disapproval that it was much colder than in Flodmouth, and that you
always needed a thick coat in the evening at Thorhaven, whatever the
time of year. At the present moment, however, most of them were
hurrying away from the wide expanse of shore and sea that glimmered
under the reflection of the sunset, for dancing was to start at
half-past eight in the glass hall which filled the centre of the
promenade.

The girl in charge of the pay-box was busier than usual, and Caroline
stood at a little distance taking a professional interest in the number
of tickets sold. Her first feeling of importance had worn off, but she
had the correct official air of detachment, glancing at the throng
which hurried through the barrier with a sort of indulgent superiority,
while the band under the glass roof of the hall tootled faintly against
the deep roll of the waves. The immensity of the arched sky above,
with the dim, flat land on one side, and the expanse of darkening sea
on the other, seemed to give to those dance tunes an indescribable
melancholy. They seemed to epitomize all the shortness and futility of
the little lives which had flickered for a few years on the edge of
that sea and then gone out.

Not that Caroline thought of this, being a normal, healthy girl, but a
shadow of the thought fell across her bright path and she shivered
slightly, drawing her coat closer round her throat. "Come on," she
said, turning to Wilf, who stood near waiting for her. "That band
gives me the pip, hearing it from the outside. You want something
louder than that near the sea."

"Well, you had the steam roundabouts on Bank Holiday, and you didn't
like that," said Wilf cheerfully. "Some folks are never satisfied."

"Look!" said Caroline. "There's that friend of Miss Laura Temple's."

Wilf turned to watch a group coming through the barrier. They were
young people from some of the larger houses that had been built to
accommodate business people from Flodmouth, but evidently not of the
sort that desires constant gaiety, or they would not have lived