Green Eyes
ght half moon painted a path of sil
as a rowboat. It was painted black. The anchor lay in its prow. The boat did
A slight girl, she sat bent over as if
s she asleep? Did she dream? She was thinking. One thinks best when at perfect repose. Where could be found more perfect
ed boat, passing at a terrific rate, had stirred the waters and had sent
y. She and this other girl had come to the little settlement to seek repose. More
herself. "More than likely they'll come
d. Perhaps they would not return after a
rench girl, Petite Jeanne. She had not moved for a quar
told herself. She had not stirre
Florence asked herself. "Might toppl
f the French girl could not swim? One swimmer was enough. And Florence could
," she thought. "Bu
. It was August, but the season was late
rgrown with cedars, but an island all the same. And in the midst of the cedars, dark, mysterious, all but hidden, was a cottage. And in the cottage lived a lady who dressed in somber garments
e northern waters in a community where no man loc
nvinced that there was something. She m
ff. With a roar that was deafening, the r
current of air fanning their cheek
about her, then clutched at the seat. Just in time. The rowbo
s if there wasn't room enough fo
her mind. Was there a purpo
o remain right there, all the same; at least until Petite J
e Jeanne?" she asked herself. "Perhaps it is h
r mind was filled with bright d
ith the gypsies of France. Florence and her friend Betty had found her there in France. In her company they had pas
ancient gypsy dance in the most divine manner. She had won the acclaim of the elite of Paris. Not alone this; she had caught the eye of a renowned producer of drama. Finding himself prepared to stage a dram
xactly that of her feat in Paris, to dance the gypsy dance with a pet bear beneath a golden
ite Jeanne
nce her success at the Paris Opera she had dreamed many dre
to her. There was no part
her. Life, to her, was more than acting on a stage. Life, vivid li
ne, "I will be your 'mother.' Every star, you know, must have a
ughed Petite Jeanne, squeezing her arm. "Parbl
was rich and famous to become her guide and pr
and well accustomed to America, I will stay by her side,
He at once made provision
isfactory manner for three weeks. Then Farnsw
ch lily droops a little in this humid climate. The north waters
th the moon and the stars above them and all th
ith a broad fireplace at its back, with heavily cushioned rustic chairs in every corner, and with such an air of f
en into a deep reverie when, with the suddenn
roar, a demon of s
she screamed in Je
wing, she was lost in a mountain of foam. Their rowboat top
as on the surface,
e her." These were the thoughts uppermost in her m
s loose. It came away. Jeanne began to sink. One more desperate
Jeanne! Get hold of my
ned French
The boat was overturned, perhaps smashed. At any rate she could not right it. The spe
tered bitterly. "And they laughed! I heard
as to
a single li
out only at night. That is by far the nearest point. We must try for that. It is our
gly, glided silently through the dark water. The waters were not mo