“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. ‘Champion?’ ‘The lad you saw following her. 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 told you —the truth.
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