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. ‘s as mad as any of you, in spite of
all his respectability; not a bit of him straight anywhere, not one bit. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the
foster background she had come from, and the single
mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the
gossips from all the corners of town. She
glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the
white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. My death, probably.
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