--Now did you ever
hear a funnier experience than that to happen to a man?"
"No," I said, "I never did."
"You had to pity him," he added.
"Yes," I agreed.--And I could think of her leading him by the hand.
I saw Signet again. It was on my first and last voyage to the Marquesas.
Under the shadow of a mountain, on a stone platform facing the sea, sat
Signet, quite nude save for a loin cloth, and with an unequivocal black
beard falling down on his breast. There was a calmness about him.
"How did you come here?" I asked, at length.
"She wanted it," he said.
"She's a wonderful woman," he said to me, "a wonderful woman. She would
do anything for me, Dole. _Anything!_ We've got a kid."
I made shift to get in a question I had carried long in mind. "Somebody
beat you out at Papeete, then, after all?"
He turned upon me a faintly quizzical look.
"I mean, somebody saw her--some tourist--that time she danced at
Papeete--Remember?--and got away with it?"
The thing seemed already so remote that he had to grope back. Then he
laughed.
"Lord, no. Look here, Dole. It was her herself seen the thing at
Papeete. On board a tourist boat. I found out about it since I learned
her language good. Her and some others went aboard to dance the
_hula_--same as always, you know.
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