"and there ought to be a Velasquez and a Titian and a Correggio."
M. Des Boys replied sarcastically:
"There's a Natural History museum."
And with a wave of the hand, he disappeared round the corner of a street.
One would thing everything in this dreary maritime city had been arranged to disguise the fact that the sea is there. The houses turn their backs on it, and a desert of stones and dust and wind lies between the shores and the town. To discover that Cherbourg is really a sea port, one must climb to the top of the Roule rock. M. Hervart had desire to scale this pinnacle.
"It's a waste of time," said Rose, "let's go up the tower in the Liais gardens."
Side by side, they walked through the dismal streets. Rose kept on looking at M. Hervart; she was disquieted by his silence. She took his arm.
"I didn't dare offer to you," he said.
"That's why I took it myself."
"I do enjoy walking with you like this, Rose."
But as a matter of fact he was most em-
