... all the boys are in collective capture and rapture , for lily is gossamer lace upon her shoulders , sinuous shawl gliding , revealing the faintest of pearl-dew upon her breasts , holding her , cupping her , every man feeling his hands cupping her , and they float away as she turns and the amazement of her breasts is not that they are exceptionally beautiful or distinctly physical but that they are gifts - delicate : intricate , elegant : fragile lace : hand-crochet : falling like sun-shower snow , a slight fluttering fall ; breasts are her name-sake flower , ivory petals : belles with roseate berries : blossoms all of a sudden , no longer captive , yet only free because each boy is shouting her name , lily !