"No, Monsieur." She seemed to know him without turning. Perhaps she recognized his voice.
"I saw you looking out toward the Pharo. I thought perhaps you were waiting for some one to come home on a ship."
"No," she said slowly. "No. I—I come here some dusks, and look out to sea. There is something. It seems to pull me. The great waters and the blinking lighthouse—I seem to stand out of myself. And miles and miles and miles away there is a new land with a new life where one might go ... and begin.... What is in me seems to struggle to go out there, but it never gets more than an inch or so outside. But even that.... And the wind ... so clean. Are you a sailor?"
"Yes, I am a sailor."
"It is very beautiful and very pure, the sea?"
"Yes, sometimes it is very beautiful. I think it is always beautiful. And it must be pure—I never thought.... It is strong, and sometimes cruel. It heals, and sometimes it is very lonely. One never quite understands. It is so big."
"Yes, so big and strong ... and it heals. One seems, one's self, one's little cares, to be so little."
And they were silent for a while.
"But perhaps I intrude, Madame. Your husband——"