MYSTIC ISLES 51 



compelling charm of Tahiti, the quick possession of the 

 new-comer by his environment, and his unconscious 

 yielding to the demands of his novel surroundings, op- 

 posite as they might be to his previous habitat. 



Very soon I was filled with the languor of these isles. 

 I hardly stirred from my living-place. The bustle of 

 the monthly steamship-day died with the going of the 

 Noa-Noa, the through passengers departing in angry 

 mood because their anticipated hula dance had been a 

 disappointment — wickedness shining feebly through 

 cotton gowns when they had expected nudity in a pas 

 seul of abandonment. There was a violent condemna- 

 tion by the duped men of "unwarranted interference by 

 the French Government with natural and national ex- 

 pression." 



Hogg, an American business traveler, said "The Bar- 

 barv Coast in Frisco had Tahiti skinned a mile for the 

 real thing," and Stevens, a London broker, that the 

 dance was "bally tame for four bob." 



Papeete, with the passing throng gone, was a quiet 

 little town, contrasting with the hours when the streets 

 swarmed with people from here and the suburbs, the 

 band playing, the bars crowded, and all efforts for 

 gaiety and coquetry and the selling of souvenirs and 

 intoxicants. What exotic life there was beyond the 

 clubs, the waterfront, and the Asiatic quarter revolved 

 around the Tiare, arid entirely so because of its pro- 

 prietress, Lovaina. She was the best-known and best- 

 liked woman in all these South Seas, remembered from 

 Australia to the Paumotus, from London to China, 

 wherever were people who had visited Tahiti, as "dear 

 old Lovaina." 



