CHAPTER XV.
"THE FOG LIFTS" When Ronnie came to himself, emerging quite suddenly from a long, confused dream, which had held many voices, many happenings over which he had exercised no control and which were too indefinite to be remembered, he found himself sitting on a seat, on the esplanade at Hazelbeach.
A crisp, wintry feeling was in the air; but the sun was brilliant, and the high ground behind, sheltered the sea-front from wind.
He was muffled in his fur coat, and felt quite warm.
The first thing he consciously noticed was the sparkling of the ripple on the calm water.
There is something particularly reviving and inspiriting about sunshine on the gaily moving sea.

The effect is produced with so little apparent effort.

The sun just shines; the water just moves; and lo, hosts of sparkling diamonds! Ronnie watched it in silence for some time, before giving any sign that he actually saw it.
He was anxious carefully to take his bearings, without appearing to do so.
Helen sat beside him on the seat.

She kept up a flow of conversation, in the kind, cheerful, intelligent voice in which you talk to a child who has to be kept happy and amused.
Ronnie let her go on talking in that voice, while he took his bearings.
He glanced at her, furtively, once; then turned his eyes seaward again.
Helen, also, was wearing a fur coat, and a pretty grey fur toque on her soft hair.

Her face seemed thinner than it used to be; but the sea breeze and sunshine had brought a bright colour to her cheeks.
Ronnie's eyes left the ripples, and wandered cautiously up and down the shore.
The beach was deserted.