"I am building in the sand," she answered.
"A castle?"
She shook her head.
"It was in dreams," she said, flushing darkly.
"What kind of dream was it in then?"
"Oh! I often dream it; and I build it in the sand. But there's never time: the sea comes back."
"Was the tide quite high when you began?" I asked; for now it was low.
"Just that much from the stones," she said; "I waited for it ever so long."
"It has a long way to come yet," I said; "you will finish it this time, I dare say."
She shook her head and lifted her spade.