“Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. 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. “I wish he had,” she said. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. She caught at the idea. I hope you will always love her, but I want you to remember she has offended your father and married without his consent. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me.
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