He was a young man, about the same age as Caius; the latter knew him well.
"The child, Jim!" shivered Caius hoarsely.

"She threw it into the water!" "In there ?" asked Jim, pointing to the flowing darkness from which they had just scrambled.

He shook his head as he spoke.

"There's a sort of a set the water's got round this here place----" He shook his head again; he sat half dressed on the edge of the grass, peering into the tide, a dark figure surrounded by darkness.
It seemed to Caius even then, just pulled out as he was from a sea too strong for him, that there was something horribly bad and common in that they two sat there taking breath, and did not plunge again into the water to try, at least, to find the body of the child who a few minutes before had lived and breathed so sweetly.

Yet they did not move.
"Did someone else come to hold her ?" Caius asked this in a hasty whisper.