"Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. ’ ‘How shocking,’ Gerald returned, grinning. “Mr. He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his dream. “You mustn’t say anything more to your mother, Michelle. 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.
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