rustic origin and lack of cultivation were evident from the stains on
the backs of her unshapely hands; from her broad, flat, finger-nails;
and from her large ungainly feet, quite out of harmony with the pair of
stylish boots she was wearing--cast-off articles, doubtless, of the
lady. She was pretty, nevertheless, with a fresh exuberance of youth.
Her large, gray, credulous eyes were those of a stupid but playful lamb;
her hair, straight, and a very light blond, hung loosely here and there
over a freckled face, dark with sunburn. She handled her closed parasol
somewhat awkwardly and kept looking anxiously at the doubled gold chain
that drooped from her neck to her waist, as if to reassure herself that
a gift long-coveted had not been lost.

Rafael's interest drifted to the lady. His eyes rested on the back of a
head of tightly-gathered golden hair, as luminous as a burnished helmet;
on a white neck, plump, rounded; on a pair of broad, lithe shoulders,
hidden under a blue silk blouse, the lines tapering rapidly, gracefully
toward the waist; on a gray skirt, finally, falling in harmonious folds
like the draping of a statue, and under the hem the solid heels of two
shoes of English style encasing feet that must have been as agile and as
strong as they were tiny.

The lady called to her maid in a voice that was sonorous, vibrant,
velvety, though Rafael could catch only the accented syllables of her
words, that seemed to melt together in the melodious silence of the
mountain top. The young man was sure she had not spoken Spanish. A
foreigner, almost certainly!...

She was expressing admiration and enthusiasm for the view, talking
rapidly, pointing out the principal towns that could be seen, calling
them by their names,--the only words that Rafael could make out clearly.