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. I could not have committed this robbery. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. ‘I told you I could handle her. But a human being who is young and clean, as you are, is apt to ennoble—or explain away.
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