Explore "Danny the Detective" by Vera C. Barclay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The narrow place Danny had clambered into seemed more like a crevice than a passage. In parts the rough walls were so close together that he could only just pass. Further on, he had to bend his head, so low was the rocky roof. In another place a craggy boulder had to be climbed over, and a deep crack jumped across. And ever the cool breeze fanned his face, making his candle flare and gutter. As he stopped to listen, a faint sound reached his ears, a kind of sigh. As he pressed onwards the sound increased.
"The sea! " he whispered.