"Just before the gale moderated there was a heavy squall with rain." "Was there?
I did not notice that--but I was on the lee side of the house.

The wind must have smoothed the sand, just like a flat-iron!" "Yes." Corbario answered indifferently and gazed out to sea.
Aurora left his side and looked about, going to a little distance from the gap, first on one side and then on the other.
"It is as if the wind had done it on purpose!" she cried impatiently.
"It is as smooth as if it had all been swept with a gardener's broom." Corbario turned, lighted his extinguished cigar, and watched her, as she moved about, stooping now and then to examine the sand.
"I don't believe it is of any use to look here," he said.

"Besides, he will be back in time for luncheon." "I suppose so," answered Aurora.

"Why do you look at me in that way ?" she asked, standing upright and meeting his eyes suddenly.
He laughed softly and took his cigar from his mouth.
"I was watching you.

You are very graceful when you move." She did not like his expression.
"I wish you would think less about me and more about finding Marcello," she said rather sharply.
"You talk as if he were lost.