She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. When she awoke, the sun was high in Heaven. 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. Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate.
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