Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. 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.
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