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I did not even know where to write and thank you. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. 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. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared.
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