As they swung along, going toward the ocean, their brains were almost as empty of thought or of reflection as those of two fine, clean animals.

They were all for the immediate sensation; they did not think--they FELT.

The intellect was dormant; they looked at things, they heard things, they smelled the smell of the sea, and of the seaweed, of the fat, rank growth of cresses in the salt marshes; they turned their cheeks to the passing wind, and filled their mouths and breasts with it.

Their life was sweet to them; every hour was one glad effervescence.

The fact that the ocean was blue was a matter for rejoicing.