Favorite Passages

   She was leaning against the rail, as he had been, but she was standing with her head back on her

shoulders, accepting the breeze and the noonday sun, and he knew without confirmation that her eyes

would be closed and that she was sure she was alone. She had not been there when he came up to the

boat deck, and he was certain she had not passed behind him on her way to the spot where she now

stood. She was wearing one of those little French hats they called a beret, a blue jacket, the white skirt,

black silk stockings, and black-and-white saddle shoes. And now he saw that there was a book under

her arm. She slowly raised her right hand and slowly slipped the beret back and off her head, and the

wind took hold of her hair but she did not move. Her hair was blond and short, and she was young.


From "Our Friend the Sea."