And concerning the nymph, her pose and costume did not seem to vary at all in the various poster specimens which he had seen; the wind was always blowing her red hair and white, transparent scarf; she always sat gazing laughingly seaward, one hand resting on the grass, the other clutching a cake of soap to her bosom.
Still examining the sheet of paper, he counted the white flowers scattered over the grass around the seated nymph. There were ten of them.
"Sister Eila," he said carelessly, "how many kilometers is it to the next town south of us? I mean by the military road."
"To Rosières-sous-Bois?"
"Yes."
"About ten kilometers by the military road."
He nodded and counted the ships. There were three.
"Is there more than one road which runs to Rosières-sous-Bois?" he asked.
"Yes. One may go by this road, or cross the bridge by the quarries and go by the river road, or there is still a better and shorter highway which runs west of Saïs."
"Then there are three main roads to Rosières-sous-Bois?"