I could not smile at the King Crabs; the reading tables and the music had no interest for me; outwardly I was walking through the magnificent halls of the Aquarium--inwardly my heart was beating to the mournful rhythms of the sea.

The clock had not struck seven when I came out, and there lying before me was the Chain Pier.
I went there as naturally as the needle goes to the magnet.

The moon shone with a fitful light--at times it was bright as day--flooded the sea with silver and showed the chain and the arches of the pier as plainly as the sun could have done--showed the running of the waves--they were busy that evening and came in fast--spreading out in great sheets of white foam, and when the moonlight did touch the foam it was beautiful to see.
But my lady moon was coquettish--every now and then she hid her face behind a drifting cloud, then the soft, thick gloom fell again, and the pier lay like a huge shadow--the very place, I thought, in which a tortured heart could grow calm; there was only the wind and the sea, nothing more.

I would go to the spot where we two should stand together never more.

I fancied, as I paid for admission at the gate, that the face of the person who received it expressed some surprise.