"You're the right sort, padre, and I'm at a loose end just now.

Besides, I'd like to see old Harold.
He's one of the best.

Come on." They found a taxi this time, near the Gare du Vert, and ran quickly out, first over cobbles, then down a wide avenue with a macadamised surface which paralleled the river, downstream.
"Main road to Havre," volunteered Jenks.

"I've been through once or twice with our stuff.

It's a jolly pretty run, and you can lunch in Candebec with a bit of luck, which is one of the beauty-spots of the Seine, you know." The road gave on open country in a few miles, though there were camps to be seen between it and the river, with wharves and buildings at intervals, and ahead a biggish waterside village.