But in those days he hadn't come to that. Maybe he was still only
half awake. Martin Jackson, sitting out on the sidewalk of his Fourth of
July saloon, came nearer to making him think than all of the school
teachers he'd ever seen. Maybe, too, life was too smooth in those days.
However, he was always in tow of some fancy or other. And one day,
being free of the navy, he went to Peru."
'"Twas love at first sight then with that young Peruvian girl on the
beach?"
"No, I don't think so--not quite that. Even at that age Cogan could not
fall in love with curves and color alone. At any rate, he put out to
sea; and the beauty of the little Peruvian girl was with him in many a
night-watch. Under the stars he could shut his eyes and see her--the
flashing teeth as she grimaced up at the horrified nurse, and the eyes
still rioting after the curved lips were closed. And yet it was not her
beauty. A hundred rosy-marbled nymphs could have paraded the beach in a
thousand silvery dawns and, once out of sight, his heart never quicken
whatever it was--the innocence, the breathing innocence of her, it may
have been that. And yet there was something more. There must have been.
He gave it up, but he knew that if he had been born a girl he, too,
would want to paddle in the sea at dawn."
"A sort of poet?" suggested the passenger.
Kieran shot a side glance at the passenger.
Pages:
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241