titpositivelytrembled.Herewasthatwomanmoving—actuallygoingtogetup—confoundher!Hestruckthecanvasahastyviolet-blackdab.Forthelandscapeneededit.Itwastoopale—greysflowingintolavenders,andonestarorawhitegullsuspendedjustso—toopaleasusual.Thecriticswouldsayitwastoopale,forhewasanunknownmanexhibitingobscurely,afavouritewithhislandladies'children,wearingacrossonhiswatchchain,andmuchgratifiedifhislandladieslikedhispictures—whichtheyoftendid.
"Ja—cob!Ja—cob!"Archershouted.
Exasperatedbythenoise,yetlovingchildren,Steelepickednervouslyatthedarklittlecoilsonhispalette.
"Isawyourbrother—Isawyourbrother,"hesaid,noddinghishead,asArcherlaggedpasthim,trailinghisspade,andscowlingattheoldgentlemaninspectacles.
"Overthere—bytherock,"Steelemuttered,withhisbrushbetweenhisteeth,squeezingoutrawsienna,andkeepinghiseyesfixedonBettyFlanders'sback.
"Ja—cob!Ja—cob!"shoutedArcher,laggingonafterasecond.
Thevoicehadanextraordinarysadness.Purefromallbody,purefromallpassion,goingoutintotheworld,solitary,unanswered,breakingagainstrocks—soitsounded.
Steelefrownedbutwaspleasedbytheeffectoftheblack—itwasjustTHATnotewhichbroughttheresttogether."Ah,onemaylearntopaintatfifty!There'sTitian…"andso,havingfoundtherighttint,uphelookedandsawtohishorroracloudoverthebay.
Mrs.Flandersrose,slappedhercoatthissideandthattogetthesandoff,andpickedupherblackparasol.
Therockwasoneofthosetremendouslysolidbrown,orratherblack,rockswhichemergefromthesandlikesomethingprimitive.Roughwithcrinkledlimpetshellsandsparselystrewnwithlocksofdryseaweed,asmallboyhastostretchhislegsfarapart,andindeedtofeelratherheroic,beforehegetstothetop.
Butthere,ontheverytop,isahollowfullofwater,withasandybottomwithablobofjellystucktotheside,andsomemussels.Afishdartsacross.Thefringeofyellow-brownseaweedflutters,andoutpushesanopal-shelledcrab—
"Oh,ahugecrab,"Jacobmurmured—andbeginshisjourneyonweaklylegsonthesandybottom.Now!Jacobplungedhishand.Thecrabwascoolandverylight.Butthewaterwasth