.. these were at an end.
He felt tired, discouraged, no fine creature, as he turned to her, but he
knew that, from that moment, a new life had begun for him.
He put his arms round Norah Monogue and kissed her.
V
He got up very early next morning and went down to the Harbour. The
fishing-boats were coming in; great flocks of gulls, waiting for the spoil
that was soon to be theirs, were wheeling in clouds about the brown sails.
The boats stole, one after another, around the pier. The air was filled
with shrill cries--the only other sound was the lapping of the water as it
curled up the little beach.
As Peter stood there there crept upon him a sensation of awe. He took off
his hat. The gulls seemed to cease their cries.
As another brown sail stole round the white point, gleaming' now in the
sun, he knew, with absolute certainty, that Norah Monogue was dead.
CHAPTER IV
THE GREY HILL
I
The day of Norah Monogue's funeral was fine and clear. Peter and little Mr.
Bannister were the only mourners and it was Peter's wish that she should be
buried in the little windy graveyard of the church where his mother had
been buried.
There was always a wind on that little hill, but to-day it was gentler than
he had ever known it before. His mind went back to that other funeral, now,
as it seemed, such a lifetime ago.
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