Her fair hips are draped with a veil of still whiter stone, like a linen garment.

Before the old moss-mellowed pedestal I pressed Marie desperately to my heart.

Then, in the sacred solitude of the wood, I put my hands upon her, and so that she might be like the goddess I unfastened her black bodice, lowered the ribbon shoulder-straps of her chemise, and laid bare her wide and rounded bosom.
She yielded to the adoration with lowered head, and her eyes magnificently troubled, red-flushing with blood and sunshine.
I put my lips on hers.

Until that day, whenever I kissed her, her lips submitted.

This time she gave me back my long caress, and even her eyes closed upon it.