THE FAREWELL 



head. As the brown strip of water silently widened 

 between us it was strangely like a stage scene the 

 roofed sheds of the quai, the motionless groups, the 

 central figure of the old woman depicting emotion. 



Suddenly she dropped her hands and hobbled 

 away at a great rate, disappearing finally into the 

 maze of the street beyond. Concluding that she 

 had decided to get quickly home with her great 

 treasure, we commended her discretion and gave 

 our attention to other things. 



The drizzle fell uninterruptedly. We had edged 

 sidewise the requisite distance, and were now gather- 

 ing headway in our long voyage. The quai was 

 beginning to recede and to diminish. Back from the 

 street hastened the figure of the little old woman. 

 She carried a large white cloth, of which she had 

 evidently been in quest. This she unfolded and 

 waved vigorously with both hands. Until we had 

 passed quite from sight she stood there signalling her 

 farewell. Long after we were beyond distinguishing 

 her figure we could catch the flutter of white. Thus 

 that ship's company, embarking each on his Great 

 Adventure, far from home and friends, received his 

 farewell, a very genuine farewell, from one poor old 

 woman. B. ventured the opinion that it was the 

 best thing we had bought with our French money. 



