gives it an air at once triumphant and idle. 
Heavy earrings tinkle secretly at her dainty 
ears. 
From time to time the sea-breeze lifts her 
floating skirt by the corner and shows her 
splendid shining leg, and her foot, like the feet 
of the marble goddesses that Europe puts into 
museums, makes a faithful print of its shape 
on the fine sand, for Dorothy is so prodigiously 
coquettish that the pleasure of being admired 
is more to her than the pride of the freed-
woman; and although she is free, she walks 
bare-foot. 
Thus she moves on, a harmony; happy in 
living, smiling an ivory smile as if she beheld 
afar off in space a mirror reflecting her move-
ment and her beauty. 
At the hour when the very dogs groan with 
pain under the biting sun, what powerful mo-
tive can have sent the idle Dorothy, beautiful 
and cold as bronze, upon her journeyings? 
Why has she left her coquettishly arranged 
little house, whose flowers and mats make so 
cheaply so perfect a boudoir; where she takes 
so  much pleasure in combing her hair, in 
smoking, in fanning herself or in looking at 
herself in the mirror of her great feathered 
fans, while the sea, beating on the shore a 
hundred yards away, makes its powerful and