"If women have heard you talk about things like that—the heather and the gorse—they must have wanted to marry you."

"I'll try to see the logic of that," I replied, laughing. "I'll try, during the next few days, and then I'll tell you why no woman has ever entertained such feelings of regard for me. Let's go on to the cottage."

Now, how is one to reconcile that with what she said to Cruikshank? I give it up. I shall make no further effort to understand her.

At the end of the boreen there was a gate. Its rusty hinges whistled the lilt of an air as I swung it open—that air which is a part of the great symphony we hear all round us. Then we were out in the open fields; the springy sea-turf was bending beneath our feet. Far on and away the rugged curves of the coast-line wound themselves to the horizon, with here and there a sleepy headland dipping its nose into the glittering sea. For a moment or two the sheep turned their heads to look at us, then, moving away with slowly wandering steps, they continued their browsing.

It was here I stood still again. The kestrel had dropped down the wind and was vanished out of sight. Only the gulls were left, sweeping their endless circles against the blue radiance of the sky. Here and there a frightened sand-martin, darting swiftly through the light, hurried over the edge of the cliff to his home, as though he knew a hawk were near at hand.

After a long silence, I turned to Bellwattle and confessed that she was right.

"Right? About what?" she asked.

"All that you have said when you talked about living in cities—compared to this. This is where to live—fair weather and foul, this is the only sort of place to solve the riddle."

"What riddle?"

"Of why it should be that we must live at all. In a place like this, everything answers it. You're quite right; it's not worth living when you only live to forget that you're alive. Here everything calls to you to remember. 'Remember' is the word. Being conscious is only a stock phrase. People use it in little art circles in London. 'Remember' is the word. Listen to that gull—that's calling to you; listen to the sea—every time a wave breaks, it's the world drawing in its breath. Pavements and houses aren't alive like that. I try in London sometimes to think that the houses talk to each other—but how can they talk if they never draw a breath! Look at the sky! Look at the sea! You're 

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