By setting his face eastward, continuing on the station road for a mile or so, he would come out on the shore at what was known as The Gap. By walking along the sands therefrom, past the private owner's wall, he would be able to mount to the parade by the steps which faced his seat.
Lips tightened and his fingers clenched when he remembered the reference to this as "our" seat. The walk would do him good; he laughed a little at that last idea. As if, he thought, anything in the whole world would ever do him any good again!
Shaken faith is a wound that smarts acutely; the only surgeon able to apply a salve is Time.
CHAPTER XI
THE VOICE IN THE DARKNESS
It was a fitful night; one on which the clouds travelled swiftly. One moment the brightness of a silvering moon; the next comparative darkness. When the extinguishers hid the lamp of night, the illumination of the heavens was left to the stars.
There was sufficient light for Masters to find his way over the breakwaters without stumbling. At times, though, despite the brightness of the moon, his eyes saw dimly. With a swiftness bred of anger he knuckled the dimness away, cursing his own irrepressible folly the while.
His heart—soul—was full to bursting point. If he could only laugh, he thought; only laugh at himself! What an immense, great big thing it would be!