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. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. And then I'll pay off old scores. ‘Now then, missie. ‘Monstrously unfair of you, Hilary. ‘I had no need of the place, and there was no money, of course.
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