The little ferry-boat which runs between St. Malo and Dinard tossed heavily in the yellow-green waves rolling in from the channel.
Then we had a year or two at Dinard—loathsome place I think it!
The chance for seeing Claire alone could not come, probably, until Dinard was reached.
Then she came over to the window to make sure that Dinard really did not lie that way.
But what a disappointment Dinard is to one's enthusiastic anticipations!
