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About halfway across this interval, when everything seemed going well, Capes had a shock. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. 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. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 17:52:39