She walked down to the shore, and stood for a long time looking upon the dim sea.

It was the very spot where Thyrza had stood that Sunday morning when she came out in the early sunlight.
Annabel had often thought how fitting it was that at this period of her life she should leave the calm, voiceless shore of Ullswater for the neighbourhood of the never-resting waves.

The sea had a voice of craving, and her heart responded with desire for completion of her being, with desire for love.
The thought that she would be near Walter Egremont had a great part in her anticipation of London.
She was not hitherto sure that she loved him.

It was rather, 'Let me see him again, and discover how his presence affects me.' Yet his manifest coldness at the last meeting had caused her much vague heartache.

She blamed herself for being so cold: was it not natural that he should take his tone from her?
He would naturally watch to see how she bore herself to him, and, remembering Ullswater, he could not press for more than she seemed ready to give.