The harbor and its environs looked immensely gay in the brilliant
sunshine. Life was at play here, even at its busiest. The very workers
sang as if their work were play. Boats went in and out on the water.
Children paddled in the shallow sea, pushing hand-nets along the sand.
From the rocks boys were bathing. Their shouts travelled to the road
where the fishermen were talking with intensity, as they leaned
against the wall hot with the splendid sun.
Hermione looked for Ruffo's face among all these sun-browned faces,
for his bright eyes among all the sparkling eyes of these children of
the sea.
But she could not see him. She walked along the wall slowly.
"Ruffo--Ruffo--Ruffo!"
She was summoning him with her mind.
Perhaps he was among those bathing boys. She looked across the harbor
to the rocks, and saw the brown body of one shoot through the shining
air and disappear with a splash into the sea.
Perhaps that boy was he--how far away from her loneliness, her
sadness, and her dread!
She began to despair of finding him.
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