The courses of theVictory were absorbed into the main, then her topsails went, and then her top-gallants. She was now no more than a dead fly's wing on a sheet of spider's web; and even this fragment diminished. Anne could hardly bear to see the end, and yet she resolved not to flinch. The admiral's flag sank behind the watery line, and in a minute the very trunk of the last main-mast stole away. The Victory was gone.
Thomas Hardy
(1840 - 1928)
Source: The Trumpet Major
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