“I’ll run and fetch one.”
“No, no! Stay here, stay and sit by the door.”
“Yes, mem-sahib.”
“And you must have the keys seen to by a locksmith.... We can’t lock the bathroom-door.... It’s too silly, when there are visitors.”
“I’ll remember to-morrow.”
“Mind you don’t forget.”
She shut the door. The maid squatted down outside the closed door, patient and resigned under the big and little things of life, knowing nothing but loyalty to her mistress, who loaded her with pretty sarongs and paid her wages in advance as often as she wanted them.
In the bathroom the little nickel lamp gleamed faintly over the pale-green marble of the wet floor; over the water brimming in the square sunk bath.
“I’ll have my evening bath a little earlier in future,” thought Léonie.
She removed her kimono and sarong; and, standing naked, she glanced in the mirror at her soft, milk-white contours, the rounded outlines of an amorous woman. Her fair hair shone like gold; and a pearly lustre spread from her shoulders over her bosom and vanished in the shadow of her small, round breasts. She lifted her hair, admiring herself, examining herself for a chance wrinkle, feeling whether her flesh was hard and firm. One of her hips arched outwards, as she rested her weight on one leg; and a long white high-light curved caressingly past her thigh and knee, disappearing at the instep. But she gave a start as she stood thus absorbed in admiration: she had meant to hurry. She quickly tied her hair into a knot, covered herself with a lather of soap and, taking the scoop, poured the water over her body. It flowed heavily down her in long smooth streams; and her gleaming shoulders, breasts and hips shone like marble in the light of the little lamp.... Yes, she would bathe earlier in future. It was already dark outside.