Intrepid Ingenue
The customs men had gone through her boxes quickly and she was free to leave. Most of the other passengers from the Majestic still sat about, perched on trunks or, wearily, on baggage carts, in the salt-smelling cavern of the pier. She moved away, accompanied by a handsome woman of 45, whose maternal caveat alone discouraged the imminent addresses of a young man in a Panama, who had been staring for fifteen minutes with a sort of scholarly zeal, as if, he seemed to say, her face reminded him of someone....
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
