" "There's no hurry. He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. " This went on for ten days. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love.
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