“It was then that I caught a flash of skin. Bare shoulders, bare neck, and hair the color of cherries. I looked away, ashamed. But I am a man, am I not? I had to glance once more. When I did so, she was coming out of the water, and she was not naked at all. She wore a muslin swimming frock, tied just above her breasts. Her hair hung down to her waist, clinging to her wet skin. In her hands was a small turtle, a hook protruding from his mouth. She looked dismayed—- I thought she might even be crying—- as she worked to remove the object. I thought her straight out of a book. A painting. A dream. Who, I wondered, was this woman that had just emerged from the sea?”
Book:The Amalfi Curse