The tide, too, had come up a long way since she had dozed off into slumber, and waves were now breaking only a few yards distant from her feet.
She cast a hasty glance to right and left, where the arms of the little cove stretched out to meet the sea, strewn with big boulders clothed in shell and seaweed.

But there were no rocks to be seen.

The grey water was lapping lazily against the surface of the cliff itself and she was cut off on either side.
For a minute or so her heart beat unpleasantly fast; then, with a quick sense of relief, she recollected that only at spring tides was the little bay where she stood entirely under water.

There was no danger, she reflected, but nevertheless her position was decidedly unenviable.

It was not yet high tide, so it would be some hours at least before she would be able to make her way home, and meanwhile the sun was sinking fast, it was growing unpleasantly cold, and she was decidedly hungry.