couple were drunk generously from spouting champagne-bottles as the
cortege circled the principal streets.

There was rare life at Lovaina's, for besides all the diners in
ordinary and extraordinary in the salle-à-manger, Stevens, the London
stockbroker, had a retired table set for the American, British, and
German consuls, and their wives. The highest two officials of France
in this group, Messieurs, l'Inspecteurs des Colonies, were there,
eating solemnly alone, as demanded by their exalted rank, and their
mission of criticism. They glanced down often at their broad bosoms to
see that their many orders were on straight, to note the admiration
of lesser officialdom, and to make eyes at the women. Their long and
profuse black beards were hidden by their napkins, which all Frenchmen
of parts hereabouts tuck in their collars, and draw up to their mouths,
a precaution which, when omitted, is seen to have been founded on an
etiquette utilitarian and esthetic.

The company was complex. At a table opposite me sat the juge inferieur
and the daughter of the Chinese cook at the Hotel Central, a smart,
slender woman with burning eyes, and with them, in full uniform,
were two French civil officials, who wore, as customary, clothes like
soldiers. One unfamiliar with their regalia might mistake, as I did,
a pharmacist for an admiral. Mary, the cook's half-Tahitian daughter,
was in elaborate European dress, with a gilded barret of baroque
pearls in her copious, ebon tresses, and with red kid shoes buckled
in silver and blister pearls.

The son of Prince Hinoe, who would have been the King of Tahiti
had the dynasty continued to reign, had a dozen chums at a table,
oafs from seventeen to twenty, and with the fish course they began