She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. “After all,” he said, “I am not sure that you are not a very material person. She found an old drunk wandering the streets. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. 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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