‘We don’t know who she is. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive. The likeness was ridiculous. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. 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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