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“My hand! This isn’t the place. Let us be gone. Englishmen also certainly. But this only incensed the assailing party the more. 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. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. As soon as the latter beheld him, she uttered a loud scream, and fainted. .
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