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. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. " "I can't. ” “Oh my goodness. So am I. The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import. “What has he done? “What shall I do. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm.
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