But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. There was only one sound—the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow moved. His natal burr was always in evidence when he was sentimentally affected. Retracing his steps, he arrived, without further accident, at the eastern platform of the starling. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. She colored faintly.
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