She seated herself on a rock and watched him, deeply interested.
"How quick you are!" she murmured presently. "Whatever is it, I wonder? A horse with a man on it! Ah, yes! St. George killing the dragon! Excellent!" She clapped her hands. "It is a real picture. What a pity for it to be washed away!"
"The destiny of all things, mademoiselle," he remarked, still elaborating his work.
"Not all things!" she exclaimed. "Look at the Sphinx, and Cleopatra's
Needle, and—and a host of other things!"
"You think that they will endure for ever?" he said.
"For a very, very long while," she maintained.
"But for ever, mademoiselle?" He turned round to her, quite serious for once. "There is only one thing that endures for ever," he said.
Chris frowned. "I don't want to think about it. It makes me feel giddy," she said. "Please go on drawing. The tide won't be up yet."
He turned back again instantly, looking quizzical. "Alors, shall we build a barrier of stones and arrest the sea?" he suggested.
"Or weave a rope of sand," amended Chris.