原版英文小说 Dreams
All day the soft wind played with her hair, and the young, young face looked out across the water.  She was waiting--she was waiting; but she could not tell for what.
All day the waves ran up and up on the sand, and ran back again, and the pink shells rolled.  Life sat waiting; all day, with the sunlight in her eyes, she sat there, till, grown weary, she laid her head upon her knee and fell asleep, waiting still.