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Out at sea grey-topped waves wrangled and strove together confusedly. They broke in a welter of soiled foam across the reef which lay opposite the mouth of the bay. Within the harbour little waves, like jagged steel blades, rose, hissed at each other spitefully, and perpetually stabbed at the rocky shore. The close, suffocating heat oppressed men and beasts.
The soft rush of the river, the scent of the shrubs, the golden sunset, occasionally the musical clatter of hoofs on the road, the gentle noises of the fishers fishing, the plop, plop of a platypus disporting itself mid stream, came to me as sweetest elixir in my ideal, dream-of-a-poet nook among the pink-based, grey-topped, moss-carpeted rocks. I was a creature of joy in those days.
The few patches of arable ground were like scattered pools of blood, red fields with rows of lean almond trees, grey-topped olive trees and long lines of vines, streaking the soil with their brown stems.
"Oh, no," answered Missy. "Not with Uncle Charlie and Aunt Isabel. She's so pretty and wears such pretty clothes remember that grey silk dress with grey-topped shoes exactly to match?" "I think she has shoes to match everything, even her wrappers," said grandma rather drily. "Isabel's very extravagant." "Extravagance becomes a virtue when Isabel wears the clothes," commented grandpa.
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