“When one is happy—I don’t like to think of them. Not wisely but too well. . 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. This gloom was impossible. Before she knew what had happened, Gosse turned suddenly, and vaulted one of the pews into the gap behind.
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