He took down his road-book, turned to the map, and let his finger fall
on the coast-line about midway between the city and the seminary.
Looking it up in the book, he found Shadow Beach described as a quiet
and exclusive resort with a good inn, excellent service, fine
sea-bathing, etc. Well, that would do as well as anywhere. He
telegraphed Tennelly:
Meet me at Shadow Beach, Howland's Inlet, Elm Tree Inn, this
evening.
COURT.
It was dark when he reached Elm Tree Inn. The ocean rolled, a long black
line flecked with faint foam, along the shore, and luminous with a
coming moon. Two dim figures, like moving shadows, went down the sand
picked out against the path of the moon. Save for those all was lonely,
up and down. Courtland shivered slightly and almost wished he had
selected some more cheerful spot for the meeting. He had not realized
how desolate a sea can be when it is growing cold. Nevertheless, it was
majestic. It seemed like eternity in its limitless stretch. The lights
in far harbors glinted out in the distance down the coast. Somehow the
vast emptiness filled him with sadness. He felt as if he were entering
upon anything but a pleasant reunion, and half wished he had not come.
Courtland ran his car up to the entrance and sprang out. He was glad to
get inside, where a log fire was crackling. The warmth and the light
dispelled his sadness.
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