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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. "Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite wonderful. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. He was inclined to be a good-natured person, and he had no nervous fears of receiving a snub. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. I don’t care what else there is in the world. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man.
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