Symphorian leapt into the clearer heaven. Beyond, a network of
lights glimmered, like fire-flies, from the vessels at anchor in the
harbour. The Penpoodle Hill, on the further shore, wore a tranquil
halo; and to the right, outside the harbour's mouth, the grey sea was
laced with silver.
"Did you ever see anything more lovely?"
Mrs. Buzza murmured the words with no desire to be answered. It was
the old Trojan formula, and there was peace in the sound of it.
"Do you know," she cried, turning to Sam, "we were very happy
before these people came. We shall never be the same again--never.
Sam, I feel as if our innocence had ended, Oh! I am a wicked woman.
Look below, Sam dear, I have never thought of it before, but how
sweet it would have been to have enclosed the old town in a
ring-fence, and lived our days in quiet! It is too late now; more
will come, and they will build and alter, and no one will be able to
stop it. Even if these people should go, it will never be the same
again. Oh! I am a sinful woman."
Sam looked at his mother. Something familiar, but hitherto
half-comprehended, spoke to him in her words. He drew her arm once
more within his own, and they descended the hill together.
Stealing like ghosts into the front hall of No. 2, Alma Villas, they
were startled to perceive the dining-room door ajar, and a light
shining out into the passage.
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