The hurrying steamships flew off to the right and left over the smooth bosom of the ocean, while sailing vessels, cast off by the pilot-tugs which had hauled them out, lay motionless, dressing themselves from the main-mast to the fore-tops in canvas, white or brown, and ruddy in the setting sun.
Mme.

Roland, with her eyes half-shut, murmured: "Good heavens, how beautiful the sea is!" And Mme.

Rosemilly replied with a long sigh, which, however, had no sadness in it: "Yes, but it is sometimes very cruel, all the same." Roland exclaimed: "Look, there is the Normandie just going in.

A big ship, isn't she ?" Then he described the coast opposite, far, far away, on the other side of the mouth of the Seine--that mouth extended over twenty kilometres, said he.

He pointed out Villerville, Trouville, Houlgate, Luc, Arromanches, the little river of Caen, and the rocks of Calvados which make the coast unsafe as far as Cherbourg.