I think, miss, if you'll step ashore, this here's as good a place as any.

Scipio and me'll keep the boat and turn our backs." Miss Marty understood.

The boat's nose having been brought alongside a ridge of rock, she landed in silence, climbed the foreshore, up by a hazel-choked path to a meadow above, and there, solemnly thrusting her hands into the lush grass, turned to the east and bathed her face in the dew.

It is a rite which must be performed alone, in silence; and the morning sun must not surprise it.
"You've been terrible quick," remarked Cai, as she stepped down to the foreshore again in the ghostly light.

"You can't have stayed to dabble your feet.