“Joan cried as, holding hands, we ran toward the waves across the wide beach. We were barefoot and had our skirts belted up, baring our legs below the knee. Though we could not take big strides, the sand and surf felt delightful on bare skin. Seagulls strutting on the sands screeched and took flight before us as we ran as fast as our tied thighs, holding up our skirt hems, would allow. Joan spoke true, I thought. I am twenty years of age and have never seen water wider than the Dart. But after e...ight months in Modbury, I had seen so much and—if Master Cromwell did not forget me—I will see much more than even this wonder of vast, rolling water. “Wait until you see the tides come in and out!” Joan told me. I thanked the Lord that she had been my special guide and friend in my new life. “We shall walk the tidal causeway to that island out there, see?” she cried, pointing, her voice so excited it was shrill. “But we must return across the sand straits by a certain time or water will devour us like a sea monster!”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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