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. ’ Miss Froxfield intervened quickly as her betrothed showed signs of erupting again. He had forgiven everybody. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. ’ ‘Hadn’t the wit, you mean. “Not a bit of it,” he said; “it’s only a score in a game.
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