He emphasized the hide-and-seek playfulness of the undertows and the treachery of them.
Then he came bluntly to the point of the matter.

It would be better if Mary Standish never did come ashore.

It would be days--probably weeks--if it ever happened at all, and there would be nothing about her for Alan to recognize.

Better a peaceful resting-place at the bottom of the sea.

That was what he called it--"a peaceful resting-place"-- and in his earnestness to soothe another's grief he blundered still more deeply into the horror of it all, describing certain details of what flesh and bone could and could not stand, until Alan felt like clubbing him beyond the power of speech.