"My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. 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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