The lady shrugged her shoulders, and laughed again.
‘He stared because he had nothing better to look at, I suppose, chéri; but come, I shall miss my bath; you had best stay here with Augustine, and make sand-hills till I rejoin you. Au revoir, Bébé.’
She left the child with the nurse, hastened on and entered one of the bathing-machines, which was immediately drawn down into the sea.
Bradley still stood where she had left him, and his eyes remained fixed upon the machine which held the woman whose very presence poisoned the air he breathed. All his old feelings of repulsion returned tenfold; the very sight of the woman seemed to degrade and drag him down.
As he stood there the door of the machine opened, and she came forth again. This time she was the wonder of all. Her shapely limbs were partly naked, and her body was covered with a quaintly cut bathing-dress of red. She called out some instructions to her nurse; then she walked down and entered the sea.
Bradley turned and walked away. He passed up the strand and sat down listlessly on one of the seats on the terrace facing the water. He took out Alma’s last letter, and read it through, and the bitterness of his soul increased tenfold.
When would his misery end? he thought. Why did not death come and claim his own, and leave him free? Wherever he went his existence was poisoned by this miserable woman.
‘So it must ever be,’ he said bitterly. ‘I must leave this place, for the very sight of her almost drives me mad.’
He rose and was about to move away, when he became conscious, for the first time, that something unusual was taking place. He heard sounds of crying and moaning, and everybody seemed to be rushing excitedly towards the sand. What it was all about Bradley could not understand, for he could see nothing. He stood and watched; every moment the cries grew louder, and the crowd upon the sands increased. He seized upon a passing Frenchman, and asked what the commotion meant.
‘Ras de marée, monsieur!’ rapidly explained the man as he rushed onward.