I’m glad you could come. 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. You can’t look me in the eyes and say you don’t care for me. But you belong to me—and I want you. He’s a footman who works for the nuns and has taken up the cudgels on her behalf.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMS44NS4xNDIgLSAxOC0wNS0yMDI0IDE4OjQ2OjIzIC0gOTgzNjc1ODQ5
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