The only thing that was louder to her was the beating of his heart. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. 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. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly.
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