There seemed to be a curious cessation of immediate sounds.

From somewhere straight ahead of him, on the other side of that black velvet curtain of darkness, came the dull booming of the wind, tearing across the face of the marshes; and beyond it, beating time in a rhythmical sullen roar, the rise and fall of the sea upon the shingle.

But near at hand, for some reason, there was almost silence.
The rain had ceased, the gale for a moment had spent itself.

The strong, salty moisture was doubly refreshing after the closeness of the small, lamplit room.

Julian lingered there for several moments.
"Nothing like fresh air," he muttered, "for driving away fancies." Then he suddenly stiffened.