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. The priest normally assigned the duty in the Iovelli family had fled days before from the chapel. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her.
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