"This is my husband," she said, her eyes pleading. "He's ill." He's potted," I said, smiling at her. You could smell him a yard off. She was stylishly...dressed with a long wool cape and fluffy scarf. Her head was bare and her hair was dark red, auburn I suppose it's called, like a chestnut horse's mane.The other woman was a good bit younger and frightened blue, actually shaking. Her lower lip quivered, and I was afraid she was going to cry. "Get back in the carriage," I said to her. "And be. The early sun was warm on her body, the water chilly on her feet. There were only a few people about, some jogging, some walking. One of the men trotted past, said "Good morning" and ran on. Belatedly Helen realized he'd spoken English.The sun grew warmer as she walked. After a stretch of deep sand, she walked out into the water to get the grit off her feet and legs, dipping into the chill, salty water. When she came back on the beach, the man who had spoken English came trotting back along the. More

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