Beautiful Appointed Suites

The hotel and its bright tan prayer rug of a beach were one. In the early morning the distant image of Cannes, the pink and cream of old fortifications, the purple Alp that bounded Italy, were cast across the water and lay quavering in the ripples and rings sent up by sea-plants through the clear shallows. Before eight a man came down to the beach in a blue bathrobe and with much preliminary application to his person of the chilly water, and much grunting and loud breathing, floundered a minute in the sea. When he had gone, beach and bay were quiet for an hour.

Merchantmen crawled westward on the horizon; bus boys shouted in the hotel court; the dew dried upon the pines. In another hour the horns of motors began to blow down from the winding road along the low range of the Maures, which separates the littoral from true Provençal France.

A mile from the sea, where pines give way to dusty poplars, is an isolated railroad stop.

The mother’s face was of a fading prettiness that would soon be patted with broken veins; Her expression was both tranquil and aware in a pleasant way. However, one’s eye moved on quickly to her daughter, who had magic in her pink palms and her cheeks lit to a lovely flame, like the thrilling flush of children after their cold baths in the evening. Her fine forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold. Her eyes were bright, big, clear, wet, and shining, the color of her cheeks was real, breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood–she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.

Pharetra Malesuada Cursus Euismod
Ipsum Portalion Elitesimo Aenean
Ipsum Portalion Elitesimo Aenean
Ipsum Portalion Elitesimo Aenean
Ipsum Portalion Elitesimo Aenean
Ipsum Portalion Elitesimo Aenean

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Nihilne te nocturnum praesidium Palati, nihil urbis vigiliae. Non equidem invideo, miror magis posuere velit aliquet. Qui ipsorum lingua Celtae, nostra Galli appellantur. Prima luce, cum quibus mons aliud consensu ab eo. Petierunt uti sibi concilium totius Galliae in diem certam indicere.

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