CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. “I imagine,” Sir John said, “that your sister would acquaint him with it. Delight surged through her as her breasts, shoulders, and belly touched his naked flesh all at once. You needn’t be in any doubt about it. She was greatly heartened by doing this. . Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber.
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