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. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. “Etherialized monkey,” she said. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. I do not want to hear from you even the threat of disobedience.
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