As they neared the factory the figure of a tall woman, young by the
straightness of the back, the gracious yet taut beauty of line and
curve, came from behind the cabin of the Savilles, and on her shoulder
was perched a three-year-old child which laughed and gurgled with
delight, holding tight to her widespread hands. The woman's face was
hidden by the child's body, but her voice, deep-throated and rich with
sliding minor tones, mingled with the high shrillness of the little
one's shrieks.
"Hold fast, ma cherie," came its laughing caution, smothered by the
flying folds of the baby's little cotton shift." See! The ship dips so,
in the ocean,--and so,--and so!"
The strong arms, bare and brown and muscular, swayed backward, throwing
up the milky whiteness of the little throat, the tiny feet flew
heavenward and the baby's wee heart choked it, as witness the screams
of irrepressible joy. As the child swayed back there came into view the
face of Maren Le Moyne, flushed all over its rare darkness, glowing
with tenderness, its great beauty transfigured divinely. The black
braids, wrapped smoothly round her head, shone in the evening sun, and
the faded garment, plain and uncompromising, but served to heighten the
effect of her physical perfection.
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