. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. 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. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness.
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