The boom of the slow plunging waves came from the back of the Bar, and now and again wild-fowl cried, faint and distant, out on the mud-flats of the Haven.
"Listen," Damaris said.

"It is mournful here.

It tells you the same things over and over again.

It sort of insists on them.

The place seems so peaceful, but it never lets you alone, really.