It was Antoinette.

She loves to parade Carlotta before her friends.

I came upon her once entertaining an admiring audience in Carlotta's presence with a detailed description of that young woman's physical perfections--a description which was marked by a singular lack of reticence.

The time of her glory is the bathing hour, when she accompanies Carlotta from her cabin to the water's edge, divests her of _peignoir_ and _espadrilles_, but before revealing her to fashionable Etretat, casts a preliminary glance around, as who should say: "Prepare all men and women for the dazzling goddess I am about to unveil." Carlotta is undoubtedly bewitching in her bathing costume, and enjoys a little triumph of beauty.

People fall into a natural group in order to look at her, while I, sitting on a camp-stool in my white ducks and pink shirt and smoking a cigarette, cannot repress a complacent pride of ownership.