Underneath waved the sea-forest--pink thread-like trees, velvet anemones, and orange berry-spotted weeds.

Now a stone on the bottom moved, rocked, and there was a glimpse of a black feeler; now a thread-like creature wavered by and was lost.

Something was happening to the pink, waving trees; they were changing to a cold moonlight blue.

And now there sounded the faintest "plop." Who made that sound?
What was going on down there?
And how strong, how damp the seaweed smelt in the hot sun...
The green blinds were drawn in the bungalows of the summer colony.

Over the verandas, prone on the paddock, flung over the fences, there were exhausted-looking bathing-dresses and rough striped towels.