The tide was rising, wave after wave rolled in, fell over, and swept up the beach in a thin white sheet of foam.

Further out the sea was calm and deserted, only in the extreme distance the lights of some passing steamer crept over the smooth dark waters like tiny glowworms.
Wilhelm's mind was in a tumult.

This woman--what a strange, terrifying creature.

Why was she throwing herself at his head?
And who knows if only at his?
And then--what need to tell him her story?
Perhaps it was a wild, insane flare of passion; but how could he have roused it?
There was nothing in him to account for it.

And she did not know him--knew nothing about his life or his character.