A strong wind rose, lashing the leaden expanse of sea into a white-capped fury quite foreign to its hitherto deceitfully dimpled aspect.
"It's a horrible day," conceded Elfreda Briggs gloomily.

"We can't do any of the things we've planned.

No bathing, no motor trip, either, unless this deluge stops, which doesn't seem likely." "Oh, it may clear up," comforted Emma Dean.

"I've seen worse days than this suddenly brace up and smile.

Let's possess our souls in patience.
Incidental to the process we might restore the shattered faith of some of our deluded correspondents.