when she had it, though always herself in debt. Yet she liked to make
money, and to have her hotel filled with tourists who patronized her
little bar or drank at meals other wines than the excellent Bordeaux,
white or red, which was free with food. Most she loved the appearance
of prosperity, the crowding of casual voyagers on steamer-days, the
visit of war-ships, the sound of music in her parlor, the rustling of
dancers, and the laughter and excitement when the maids were busied
carrying champagne and cheaper drinks to the verandas.

I saw her at her best when El Presidente Sarmiento, an Argentine
training-ship, came to port with a hundred cadets. A madness then
possessed the girls of Tahiti.

Forsaking their old loves or those of the moment, they threw themselves
into the arms of the visitors, determined on conquest. The quays
where the launches of the Sarmiento landed their passengers, and the
streets about the saloons, restaurants, and theaters, were thronged
with the fairest and gayest girls of the island. They poured in from
the country to share in the lovemaking. The cafés were filled with
dancing and singing crowds, the volatile Argentineans matching the
Tahitians in abandon and ardor.

Accordions, violins, guitars, and mandolins were played everywhere. The
scores of public automobiles were engaged by joyous parties who
sallied to the rural resorts, each Juan with his vahine. Mostly
unable to exchange a word, they were kissing and embracing in their
seats. The ship had been there a year before, and many of the men
were hunting former sweethearts. They found that very difficult,
as they had not accurate descriptions.