But he did not belong there ; he was an alien , and she wished to go back to it for the first time alone . At the boathouse Davy launched the small sailboat and Nora took the tiller . She knew every inch of the harbour . As the sail filled before the wind and the boat sprang across the upcurling waves , her brief sullenness fell away from her . She no longer resented Clark Bryant 's presence -- she forgot it . He was no more to her than the mast by which he stood . The spell of the sea and the wind surged into her heart and filled it with wild happiness and measureless content . Over yonder , where the lights gleamed on the darkening shore under the high-sprung arch of pale golden sky , was home . How the wind whistled to welcome her back ! The lash of it against her face -- the flick of salt spray on her lips -- the swing of the boat as it cut through the racing crests -- how glorious it all was ! Clark Bryant watched her , understanding all at once that he was nothing to her , that he had no part or lot in her heart . He was as one forgotten and left behind . And how lovely , how desirable she was ! He had never seen her look so beautiful . The shawl had slipped down to her shoulders and her head rose out of it like some magnificent flower out of a crimson calyx . The masses of her black hair lifted from her face in the rush of the wind and swayed back again like rich shadows . Her lips were stung scarlet with the sea 's sharp caresses , and her eyes , large and splendid , looked past him unseeing to the harbour lights of Racicot . When they swung in by the wharf Nora sprang from the boat before Bryant had time to moor it . Pausing for an instant , she called down to him , carelessly , `` Do n't wait for me . I shall not go back tonight . ''
Then she caught her shawl around her XXXXX and almost ran up the wharf and along the shore .
head heart look part presence rush sailboat sea shore time