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London, Jack, 1876-1916

"On the Makaloa Mat"

And often there's
nothing in them after all, I find, and so you are saved the
nuisance of them."
She held out her arms for him to place the wrap about her--her
valiant little arms that were so wise and steel-like in battling
with the breakers, and that yet were such just mere-woman's arms,
round and warm and white, delicious as a woman's arms should be,
with the canny muscles, masking under soft-roundness of contour and
fine smooth skin, capable of being flexed at will by the will of
her.
He pondered her, with a grievous hurt and yearning of appreciation-
-so delicate she seemed, so porcelain-fragile that a strong man
could snap her in the crook of his arm.
"We must hurry!" she cried, as he lingered in the adjustment of the
flimsy wrap over her flimsy-prettiness of gown. "We'll be late.
And if it showers up Nuuanu, putting the curtains up will make us
miss the second dance."
He made a note to observe with whom she danced that second dance,
as she preceded him across the room to the door; while at the same
time he pleasured his eye in what he had so often named to himself
as the spirit-proud flesh-proud walk of her.


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