He sat silent, absorbed in thought, when suddenly a woman came down the pier--a tall, beautiful woman, who walked to the end and stood leaning there." I saw the scarlet poppies fall from the nerveless hands on the green grass, but the figure by my side seemed to have suddenly turned to stone.

I dare not look at her.

The scene was far greater agony to me, I almost believe, than to her.

I went on: "The woman stood there for some short time in silence; then she became restless, and looked all around to see if anyone were near.
"Then she walked to the side of the pier.

She did not see the dark form in the corner; she raised something in her arms and dropped it into the sea." There was a sound, but it was like nothing human--it was neither sigh nor moan, but more pitiful than either; the poppies lay still on the grass, and a great hush seemed to have fallen over the river.
"Into the sea," I repeated, "and the man, as it fell, saw a shawl of black and gray." She tried to spring up, and I knew that her impulse was to rush to the river.