Mrs.Flanders, who was growing stout, sat down in the fortress and looked about her.
The entire gamut of the view's changes should have been known to her; its winter aspect, spring, summer and autumn; how storms came up from the sea; how the moors shuddered and brightened as the clouds went over; she should have noted the red spot where the villas were building; and the criss-cross of lines where the allotments were cut; and the diamond flash of little glass houses in the sun.

Or, if details like these escaped her, she might have let her fancy play upon the gold tint of the sea at sunset, and thought how it lapped in coins of gold upon the shingle.

Little pleasure boats shoved out into it; the black arm of the pier hoarded it up.

The whole city was pink and gold; domed; mist-wreathed; resonant; strident.

Banjoes strummed; the parade smelt of tar which stuck to the heels; goats suddenly cantered their carriages through crowds.