’ He had abandoned the “sir”, Gerald noted, realising that the footman’s respect for him had dropped sharply. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me. But he only went home again to Paddington. 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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