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. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. They are the only happy women in the Orient. She gave her lips to his without resistance. You say that this gentleman was with you?” “I was,” Brendon answered, “most providentially. She realized that no man had ever placed a mantle of respect upon her as Sebastian did; respect for more than just her pretty face and her now lost ability to bear children. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him.
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