She called out to me:  “Go away!” and her full voice, which corresponded to her strong build, had a guttural accent, and as I did not move, she added:  “It is not right of you to stop there, monsieur.”  I did not move, however, and her head disappeared.  Ten minutes passed, and then her hair, then her forehead, and then her eyes reappeared, but slowly and prudently, as if she were playing at hide-and-seek, and were looking to see who was near.  This time she was furious, and called out:  “You will make me get some illness, and I shall not come out as long as you are there.”  Thereupon, I got up and went away, but not without looking round several times.  When she thought I was far enough off, she came out of the water; bending down and turning her back to me, she disappeared in a cavity in the rock, behind a petticoat that was hanging up in front of it.

I went back the next day.  She was bathing again, but she had a bathing costume, and she began to laugh, and showed her white teeth.  A week later we were friends, and in another week we were eager lovers.  Her name was Marroca, and she pronounced it as if there were a dozen r’s in it.  She was the daughter of Spanish colonists, and had married a Frenchman, whose name was Pontabeze.  He was in government employ, though I never exactly knew what his functions were.  I found out that he was always very busy, and I did not care for anything else.

She then altered her time for having her bath, and came to my house every day, to have a siesta there.  What a siesta!  It could scarcely be called reposing!  She was a splendid girl, of a somewhat animal, but superb type.  Her eyes were always glowing with passion; her half-open mouth, her sharp teeth, and even her smiles, had something ferociously loving about them; and her curious, long and straight breasts, which were as pointed as if they had been pears of flesh, and as elastic as if they contained steel springs, gave her whole body something of the animal, made her a sort of inferior and magnificent being, a creature who was destined for unbridled love, and which roused in me the idea of those ancient deities, who gave expression to their tenderness on the grass and under the trees.

And then, her mind was as simple as two and two are four, and a sonorous laugh served her instead of thought.

Instinctively proud of her beauty, she hated the slightest covering, and ran and frisked about my house with daring and unconscious immodesty.  When she was at last overcome and worn out by her cries and movements, she used to sleep soundly and peacefully while the overwhelming heat brought out minute spots of perspiration on her brown skin, and from under her arms.

Sometimes she returned in the evening, when her husband was on duty somewhere, and we used to lie on the terrace, scarcely covered by some fine, gauzy, Oriental fabric.  When the full moon lit up the town and the gulf, with its surrounding frame of hills, we saw on all the other terraces what looked like an army of silent phantoms lying, who would occasionally get up, change their places, and lie down again, in the languorous warmths of the starry sky.