Explore "The Secret of the Reef" by Harold Bindloss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was the evening before Aynsley's departure, and he and Clay and the Osbornes were sitting on the veranda. Not a breath of wind was stirring, and the inlet stretched back, smooth as oil and shining in the evening light. The tops of the tall cedars were motionless; not a ripple broke upon the beach; the only sound was the soft splash of water somewhere among the trees.
The heat had been trying all day, and Aynsley glanced languidly at the faint white line of snow that rose above the silver mist in the blue distance.