We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Permit me to make him known to you—Mr. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. His perception of her personal beauty deepened and quickened with each encounter. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. Hearl on HounslowHeath. She had become neutral towards him and he had used the lesson to try to advance himself.
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