“I wouldn’t make this objection,” Mr. . Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away. I make no apology for not being with you now. " Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he knew she wanted —a love story. 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. It cuts. For a time she furnished the flat. The barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty.
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