It was October when Laura Snow decided to run away. She had a near-perfect husband, two teenage daughters, and a languid and easy life style. Richard protected her from every possible stress, dissuaded her from taking a job, was a better cook and manager than she was, and bore, with amused condescension, her efforts to write. Laura felt she was gradually being stifled to death.

She made her plans very carefully--two, or perhaps three weeks--no more--away from the family, from people, in which to savour peace and isolation and try to write.

The small cottage, hugging the side of a Cornish cliff, was perfect for her solitary desires, but almost at once she became involved in real and more besetting problems than her own need for identity. Two men began to dominate her life: Joe, the sad, sick boy desperately needing her help, and Mark, the scholarly neighbour, still mourning the death of his wife. For Laura, running away proved to be both emotive and deeply disturbing.