"Madonna!" Mario whispered fervently, dropping to her side. "You are exquisite! You are like a rare jewel in the sunlight!" And his arm moved practicedly toward her shoulder.
Their eyes met, and for a moment the tableau of romantic danger held, suspended in time, it seemed. Then it shattered as the greenery suddenly parted around them and a host of naked figures, desperately clutching bunches of leaves to themselves, flooded into the clearing. Julie looked up frightenedly and screamed.
"Good heavens!" she cried.
The undraped stampeders stopped short. There was an interval of stunned silence, then the leafy interlopers, seized with a fit of modesty, hastily huddled together and crouched down.
"My God!" a small round-eyed man gasped. "We're surrounded. Everybody's wearing clothes today."
"Everywhere you look," said a tousled-looking blond, "there's concealment!"
The silence returned, more awkwardly this time. The nudists stared worriedly at Julie and Mario and they, too stunned for words, stared back. Julie, from sheer nervousness, finally spoke.
"You—you haven't any clothes on!" she observed rather foolishly.
"We are aware of that, madam," a bald-pated gentleman said miserably. "And we're growing more aware of it every minute. You don't have to tell us."
"Don't you even care?" Julie asked shakenly. "Don't you want to have any on?"