“Why not?” he exclaimed. The cloth nearly touches the floor. Each time also we quarrel, and even if you are laughing very much, you become angry. ’ ‘You say—what?’ gasped Melusine. 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. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat.
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