Philippa, late that afternoon, found what she sought--solitude.

She had walked along the sands until Dreymarsh lay out of sight on the other side of a spur of the cliffs.

Before her stretched a long and level plain, a fringe of sand, and a belt of shingly beach.

There was not a sign of any human being in sight, and of buildings only a quaint tower on the far horizon.
She found a dry place on the pebbles, removed her hat and sat down, her hands clasped around her knees, her eyes turned seaward.

She had come out here to think, but it was odd how fugitive and transient her thoughts became.