The cliffs overhead oppressed him--made him feel trapped and helpless.
He was caught by them in a net of great boulders, while the sea fumbled
for him. But he and Helena. She laboured strenuously beside him, blinded
by the skin-like glisten of the white rock.

'I think I will rest awhile,' she said.

'No, come along,' he begged.

'My dear,' she laughed, 'there is tons of this shingle to buttress us
from the sea.' He looked at the waves curving and driving maliciously at the boulders.
It would be ridiculous to be trapped.

'Look at this black wood,' she said. 'Does the sea really char it?' 'Let us get round the corner,' he begged.

'Really, Siegmund, the sea is not so anxious to take us,' she said
ironically.

When they rounded the first point, they found themselves in a small bay
jutted out to sea; the front of the headland was, as usual, grooved.
This bay was pure white at the base, from its great heaped mass of
shingle. With the huge concave of the cliff behind, the foothold of
massed white boulders, and the immense arc of the sea in front, Helena
was delighted.

'This is fine, Siegmund!' she said, halting and facing west.

Smiling ironically, he sat down on a boulder. They were quite alone, in
this great white niche thrust out to sea. Here, he could see, the tide
would beat the base of the wall. It came plunging not far from
their feet.