Read "A Rolling Stone" by B. M. Croker online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
As it was a lovely evening, many other couples were on the links or the shore, lured abroad by the beauty of the scene, the clear radiance of the northern sky, and the brilliance of a harvest moon. A soft, almost languorous little breeze, stirred the long coarse grass among the dunes -- perhaps it had stolen across the bay from those dark mountains of Rossshire, carrying tender messages from the purple heather? To-night, the great burners in the lighthouse had a sinecure, for it was as bright as day. From a villa overlooking the sea, a violin and piano flooded the air with sounds that seemed to evoke the very spirit of romance -- a passionate triumph of the greatest gift in life.
As Aurea and her companion descended to the shore, they had scarcely exchanged a word beyond Wynyard's "Mind that stone," and "Let us get away from the crowd, right down to the sea."