. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. “Showtime!” Martin cried. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. 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. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once.
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