My bed-room faced the sea, and I drew up the blind so that I might look at it once more.

The beautiful sea has many weird aspects, none stranger than when it lies heaving sullenly under the light of the moon.
Fascinated, charmed, I stood to watch it.

The moon had changed her mind; she meant to shine now; the clouds had all vanished; the sky was dark and blue; the stars were shining; but the wind had quickened, and the waves rolled in briskly, with white, silvery foam marking their progress.
The Chain Pier stood out quite clear and distinct in the moonlight; very fair and shapely it looked.

Then I went to sleep and dreamed of the white, beautiful, desperate face--of the woman who had, I believed, thrown her love-letters into the sea.

The wind grew rougher and the sea grew angry during the night; when at times I woke from my sleep I could hear them.