sea, quenching its brilliance; but southward, towards the isles of St Marcouf, it was still bright.
"A sad thought crossing the brow of the sea," said M. Hervart. "But look..."
Everything had suddenly lit up once again.
Rose blew kisses into space.
They had to go back towards St. Vast, where they had hired the carriage. Thence, travelling by the little railway which follows the sea for a space before it turns inland under the apple trees, they arrived at Valognes.
They dined at the St. Michel hotel. M. Des Boys was bored; he had begun to find the excursion rather too long. But there were still a lot of fine buildings to be looked at, Fontenay, Flamanville... However, those didn't mean such long journeys.
"We have still got to go," said he, "to Barnavast, Richemont, the Hermitage and Pannelier. That can be done in one afternoon."
They did not get back to Robinvast till very late. The darkness in the carriage gave M. Hervart his opportunity; his leg came into contact with Rose's; under pretext of steadying
