“Just one more minute and I’ll be with you,” she told me as she took a towel and a kimono and stepped into a dressing closet.... And she wasn’t gone more than a minute, either. I don’t see how she could remove her bathing suit and dry herself in such a short time. However, there she was—and no bones about it. She gave me a fervent kiss in passing and then asked me to hand her the chemise which lay on the chair beside me. She put it on, without getting up from the seat on which she had settled. “Now that long affair, please, baby,” she went on, and I passed her the brassière. “You might assist me, honey,” she suggested; so I went over and hooked the brassière—but when that was done she threw her arms up and around my neck and pulled my head over her shoulder so she could kiss me.... I began to get a different view of things right then, for that one embrace was so mad, so fervent, that I understood immediately that she meant business.... I felt rather panicky, but I stubbornly stuck it out, and when she released me, I offered to help with her hose and shoes.... Between the operations there had to be a certain amount of caresses, but I managed to keep busy, even going so far as to help with her hair, for which I was rewarded by a terrific kiss and the following testimony as to my character: “You’re the dearest, sweetest, darlingest man I’ve ever known!” “Rather a large order,” I reminded her. “But you are, honey!” She busied her gaze with the mirror as she continued, “You see, I get so sick of being nice to old men and middle-aged men and men who have lost all the touches of youth!... Sometimes I feel as if I had never had any youth myself ... as if I had always been grown-up and in the company of grown-ups.... You can understand, can’t you? You understand everything, I believe.” “The Captain isn’t an old man,” I observed maliciously. “Captain Winstead?” she exclaimed with a laugh. “No—he’s not so old, but loving him would be just like loving a matinée idol. He’s clever, dashing, fascinating, everything desirable—and that’s just why I am not interested in him. You can’t trust a man who is too perfect.... But, you are just ideal, you darling boy!... And you’ve been so nice, so attentive, so deferential and considerate ... well, it’s a relief, to say the least.” It seemed to me that her ardor had cooled. Perhaps she thought she had said too much. At any rate, the dressing was finished without any amorous threats that I could fear, and by the time the others began drifting in from the pool, we were ready to appear below. She was putting the finishing touches on her face when the sounds of their coming reached us, and she hurriedly completed the task while I jumped to obey her “Find me a cigarette, like a good boy.”