XXX 
  
BEAUTIFUL DOROTHY 
  
  
THE sun overwhelms the town with its di-
rect and terrible light; the sand dazzles and 
the sea glitters; the tired world has given up 
its work and is taking its siesta; a siesta which 
is a kind of sweet-savoured death, where the 
sleeper, half awake, tastes the pleasures of his 
annihilation. 
Dorothy, however, as strong and as bright 
as the sun, walks in the deserted street; at this 
hour she is the sole living being under the 
mighty vault of blue; she makes a startling 
black blot upon the light. 
She moves forward, softly swaying her deli-
cate torso on her broad hips; her robe of cling-
ing silk, bright rose in colour, makes a lively 
contrast with the darkness of her skin, and 
moulds exactly her tall figure, her hollowed 
back and pointed breasts. Her red umbrella, 
filtering the light, throws on her dark face the 
blood-red tint of its reflections. 
The weight of her forest of hair, almost blue 
in shade, draws back her delicate head and