And bending forward with her head on one side and her chin on her
shoulder, she kept looking attentively at the appearance of her toilet.

Magis asked her if she did not think the dress a little long, but she
answered with assurance that it was not--she would hold it up.

Immediately, taking the back of her skirt in her left hand, she drew
it obliquely across her hips, taking care to disclose a glimpse of her
heels. Then she went away, walking with short steps and swinging her
hips.

She did not turn her head, but as she passed near a stream she glanced
out of the corner of her eye at her own reflection.

A male penguin, who met her by chance, stopped in surprise, and
retracing his steps began to follow her. As she went along the shore,
others coming back from fishing, went up to her, and after looking at
her, walked behind her. Those who were lying on the sand got up and
joined the rest.

Unceasingly, as she advanced, fresh penguins, descending from the paths
of the mountain, coming out of clefts of the rocks, and emerging from
the water, added to the size of her retinue.

And all of them, men of ripe age with vigorous shoulders and hairy
breasts, agile youths, old men shaking the multitudinous wrinkles of
their rosy, and white-haired skins, or dragging their legs thinner and
drier than the juniper staff that served them as a third leg, hurried
on, panting and emitting an acrid odour and hoarse gasps. Yet she went
on peacefully and seemed to see nothing.