ut you aren't looking. What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. I can't see what I'm looking for. But the gulls might mean
land, or icebergs, or a ship."

"I don't want land or a ship, or even icebergs," said Helen suddenly.

He looked at her with the fleeting look that had been her first
impression of him.

"Why not? Why don't you?"

"I'm so happy where I am."

"That's all very well," said her boy, with his eyes on the distance.

For awhile she lay enjoying the warmth of the sun, watching the gulls
sliding down the unseen slopes of the air. Presently high up she saw
one hover and pause, settling on nothingness by the swift, almost
imperceptible beat of its wings. And suddenly it dropped like a stone
upon a wave, and darted up again so quickly that she could not follow
what had happened.

"What is it doing?" she asked.

"Fishing," said the boy. "It wanted its dinner."

"So do I," said Helen.

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a packet wrapped in
oilskin. There was biscuit in it. He gave some to her, bit by bit;
though it was soft and dull, she was glad of it. But soon she drew away
from the hand that fed her.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"You must have some too."

"That's all right. I'm not greedy like you birds."

"I'm not a bird. And I'm not greedy. Being hungry's not being greedy.
I'd be greedy if I ate while you're hungry."

"I'm not hungry."

"Then neither am I."

To satisfy her he ate a biscuit. Soon after she began to feel thirst,
but she dared not ask for water. She knew he had none. He looked at her
lying pale in his arms, and said with a smile that was not like a real
smile, "It's a pity about the icebergs." She smiled and nodded, and lay
still in the heat, watching the gulls, and thinking of ice. Some of the
birds settled on the raft. One sat on the mast; another hovered at her
knee, picking at crumbs. They played in the sun, rising and falling,
and turned in her vision into a whirl of snowflakes, enormous
snowflakes....She began to dream of snow, and her lips parted in the
hope that some might fall upon her tongue. Presently she ceased to
dream of snow....The boy looked down at her closed lids, and at her
cheeks, as white as the breasts of the gulls. He could not bear to look
long, and returned to his distances.

It was night again.

The circle of the sea was as smooth as silk. Pale light played over it
like dreams and ghosts. The sky was a crowded arc of stars, millio