She was feeling the disquietude of every woman on her second amorous interview.
She was trying to guess his impressions, to convince herself of his gratitude, to be certain that the fascinations of the first hours had not been dissipated during her absence.
While the sailor was again attacking his breakfast with the familiarity of a lover who has achieved his ends and no longer needs to hide and poetize his grosser necessities, she seated herself on an old _chaise longue_, lighting a cigarette.
She cuddled into this seat, her crossed legs forming an angle within the circle of one of her arms.

Then she leaned her head on her knees, and in this position smoked a long time, with her glance fixed on the sea.

He guessed that she was about to say something interesting, something that was puckering her mental interior, struggling to come out.
Finally she spoke with deliberation, without taking her eyes off the gulf.

From time to time she would stop this contemplation in order to fasten her eyes on Ulysses, measuring the effect of her words.

He stopped occupying himself definitely with the breakfast tray, foreseeing that something very important was coming.
"You have sworn that you will do for me whatever I ask you to do....
You do not wish to lose me forever." Ulysses protested.