” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. Critically, she stared at her own features. I am almost old enough to be your father. 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. He moaned in excitement as his lips wrapped around the peak of her right breast.
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