The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. “There are policemen—and buses. We live under man-made institutions, and that is what they amount to. The assemblage which was gathered together was almost countless. It was perfectly legitimate. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. He resented being regarded as irregular. " She made the companion without touching stay or rail, which necessitated a fine sense of balance, for there was a growing vigour to the wind and a corresponding lift to the roll of the sea. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. She glanced into his face. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. It is impossible.
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