But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. “We’re going to be sensible. “My name is certainly Pellissier,” she said, “but I am very sorry—I do not recognize you in the least. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. In these waters the shell has about given out. Mademoiselle has had no harm of me,’ Gerald said soothingly and bowed.
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