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Rose-Marie felt truly blessed by nature, as she stood naked on the balcony of her father's palatial white mansion looking out onto her father's ornate garden. Not only had she the good fortune to have been born and to continue to live here in St Lucia, one of the most pleasant corners of the French Empire, but she also had the good fortune of possessing a wealthy father who had chosen the Edenist way of life. In fact, the garden, the island as a whole, was very much like the Garden of Eden to whose natural state Edenists aspire.

Even had she not had the good fortune of birth, Rose-Marie believed she would have chosen the life of an Edenist. Clothes would be ever such a burden. And of course, she, like most people on the island, owned no clothes at all. Those who did own clothes were those who happened to owe their own good fortune of living in St Lucia to the misfortune of their ancestors having been brought to the island as slaves, a barbaric practice which had persisted in some parts of the Americas until early in the twentieth century. But Rose-Marie refused to feel guilty for the sins of her forefathers. Guilt, as Edenists believed, was an outdated notion that merely prevented people from enjoying the moment.

Rose-Marie strode off the balcony and into the shade of the house. It wouldn't do to expose her skin to the sun too long. Skin cancer was the scourge of Edenism. Those few other places where a significant proportion of people followed the Edenist ideal, such as the British provinces of Queensland and New Zealand, the German Congo, the French ...

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