“Indeed!” Anna answered indifferently. 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. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not followed. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. She distinctly shivered as he forced her to look at him. What news. I have never spoken of these things to any human being.
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