194 MYSTIC ISLES 



of the island had pleaded and submitted, admirals and 

 ensigns had whispered love to dusky vaUnes, and the 

 petty wars of Oceanie had been planned between 

 waltzes and wines. Here Loti put his arms about his 

 first Tahitian sweetheart, and practised that vocabulary 

 of love he used so well in "Rarahu," "Madame Chrysan- 

 theme," and his other studies of the exotic woman. A 

 hundred noted men, soldiers, and sailors, scientists and 

 dilettanti, governors and writers, had walked or worked 

 in those tumbling rooms. 



Lovaina had owned the building many years, buying 

 it from the thrifty French Government. 



My apartment was of two rooms, and my section of 

 the balcony was cut off by a door, giving privacy unusual 

 in Tahiti. The coloring of the wall was rich in hue. 



Any color, so it 's red, said a satirist, who might have 

 been characterizing my rooms. Turkey-red muslin 

 with a large, white diamond figure was pasted on the 

 plaster walls and hung in the doorways. 



"It very bes' the baroness could do in T'ytee," ex- 

 plained Lovaina. "She must be bright all about, and 

 she buy and fix rooms. She have whole top floor An- 

 nexe, and spen' money like gentleman, two or three 

 thousand dollar' every month. I wish you know her. 

 She talk beautiful', and never one word smut. Hones', 

 true. Johnny, my son, read 'Three Weeks' that time, 

 and he speak the baroness, 'You jus' like that woman 

 in the book.' She have baby here and take with her to 

 Paris. She want that baby jus' hke 'Three Weeks.' 

 Oh, but she Hve high! She have her own servants, get 

 everything in market, bring peacocks and pheasants and 

 turkeys from America. How you think? Dead? No. 



