"Nothing."
"You will never—see me—again. Is that what 'nothing' means?"
They walked on in silence. The path had now become palely illumined; the sound of the surf was very near. Another step or two and they stood on the forest's edge.
A spectral ocean stretched away under the stars; ghostly rollers thundered along the sands. North and south dunes glimmered; and the hot fragrance of sweet-bay mingled with the mounting savour of the sea.
She looked at the sea, the stars, blindly, lips apart, teeth closed, her arm still resting on his.
"Nothing," she repeated under her breath; "that was the best answer.... Don't touch my hand!... I was mad to come here.... How close and hot it is! What is that new odour—so fresh and sweet—"
"China-berry in bloom—"
"Is it?"
"I'm not sure; once I thought it was—you; the fragrance of your hair and breath—Calypso."
"When did you think that?"