“One evening some years ago, a fisherman’s daughter of eighteen was walking along the edge of the sea, leaping from rock to rock, her white dress clinging to her body. Walking thus and dreaming and watching the effects of the moon on the sea, the soft lapping of the waves at her feet, she came to a hidden cove where she noticed that someone was swimming.
She could see only the head moving and occasionally an arm. The swimmer was quite far away. Then she heard a light voice calling out to her, “Come in and swim. It’s beautiful”. It was said in Spanish with a foreign accent. “Hello Maria,” it called, so the voice knew her. It must have been one of the Young American women who bathed there during the day.”