"It must be a Norwegian folk-song. It reminds me of Grieg."
Another verse was sung. It began to rain,—warm, summer drops.
"You will be wet," Richard said.
"Never mind."
A third verse followed, and then a new air was started. It rained faster.
"Come under the shelter of the wall here," Richard urged, timidly taking her arm. "I think I see an archway."
"Yes, yes," she murmured, with sweet acquiescence; and they stood together a long time under the archway in silence, while the Norwegian sailors, heedless of weather, sang song after song.
The next morning the sky had cleared again, but there was a mist over the calm sea. They walked idly on the level sands. At first they were almost alone. The mist intensified distances; a group of little children paddling in a foot of water appeared to be miles away. Slowly the mist was scattered by the sun, and the beach became populous with visitors in Sunday attire. In the afternoon they drove to Angmering, Adeline having found no preferable haunt.
"You have no train to catch to-night," she said; "what a relief! Shall you start very early to-morrow?"
"I'm not particular," he answered. "Why?"