The quotations on the left are excerpts from "Black Mamba," a story by William Conboy '52 in the December issue of "The Harvard Advocate." These on the right are from "Sun," a short story by D. H. Lawrence, in "The Woman Who Rede Away and Other Stories", copyright 1927 by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.

... Heat rinsed over face, her throat, her tired belly, her knees and feet. She lay with shut eyes, the sun flaming through her lids. She reached out for leaves to put over her eyes. The sun filled her body like a ripening pear.

She was flowing over warmth. Turning over, she let her shoulders dissolve in the sun, her hips, the back of her thighs. She lay stunned, loosened by the sun. (page 18)

Now her life had changed. Before dawn she lay awake waiting for the sun to rise. The ways of the sun's coming were various and rare. Sometimes the sun came swiftly, whitehot and bluish, into the white morning, sometimes slow and sullen, red with anger (thrusting up enormous in her window. (page 18)

She was fortunate: weeks passed and the mornings were all blue and clear. Spring flowers covered the veld and the giant jacaranda tree bloomed. (page 18)

Every day she went down to the monolith in the cactus grove. Wiser now, she wore only a wrapper and sandals, so that in an instant she was naked to the sun. (page 18)

One morning Van Riet said with a shrewd laugh, "It must be beautiful to go unclothed in our sun, eh?" (page 18)

When she came out of the sun at noon and went down past the ruins, down to the river bank where the oranges hung in green shade, and slipped off her wrapper to bathe in one of the deep, clear green pools, she noticed, under the green light of the orange leaves, that her body was all rosecolored and gold ... She rubbed oil into her skin and wandered under the oranges ... laughing to herself. There was a chance some native might see her, but she did not care: he would be afraid of her. (page 18)

He ... enveloped her breasts and her face, her throat, her tired belly, her knees, her thighs and her feet. She lay with shut eyes, the colour of rosy flame through her lids ... She reached and put leaves over her eyes. Then she lay again, like a long white gourd in the sun, that must ripen to gold ... She was beginning to feel warm right through. Turning over, she let her shoulders dissolve in the sun, her loins, the backs of her thighs, even her heels. And she lay half stunned ... (page 26)

Her life was now a whole ritual. She lay always awake, before dawn, watching for the grey to colour to pale gold ... But sometimes he came ruddy, like a big shy creature. And sometimes slow and crimson red, with a look of anger, slowly pushing and shouldering ... as he moved behind the wall. (page 28)

She was fortunate. Weeks went by ... and never a day passed sunless ... The thin little wild crocuses came up mauve and striped, the wild narcissi hung their winter stars. (page 28)

Every day she went down to the cypress tree, among the cactus grove ... She was wiser and subtler now, wearing only a dove-grey wrapper, and sandals. So that in an instant ... she was naked to the sun. (page 28)

"It must be beautiful to go unclothed in the sun," said Marinina, with a shrewd laugh in her eyes ... (page 29)

When, out of the sun at noon, sometimes she stole down over the rocks and past the cliff-edge, down to the deep gully where the lemons hung in cool eternal shadow; and in the silence slipped off her wrapper to wash herself quickly at one of the deep, clear green basins, she would notice, in the bare green twilight, under the lemon leaves, that all her body was rosy, rosy and turning to gold ... And she would rub a little olive oil in her skin, and wander a moment in the dark underworld of the lemons ... laughing to herself. There was just a chance some peasant might see her. But if he did he would be more afraid of her than she of him (page 30)