Her wavy black hair was no longer matted and wild, for, with the water in the cove as a mirror and her big hair comb as the necessary toilet article, she had "done it up" in quite a presentable fashion.

Her face was bright and pure in its freshness, her hands were white and immaculately clean; her eyes sparkled with a deeper, clearer blue than ever.

She wore an air of resolute confidence in herself.
"I have been up for two hours or more.

See how nice and clean I am.

Go down there and wash your hands and face and I will comb your hair." She produced an improvised clothes broom, a stout leafy branch from a cocoanut-tree, and swished the sand from his clothing as he turned about for her obediently.
"These clothes of mine are full of sand and scum from the sea, but before the day is over I intend to give them a good scrubbing and drying.