She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. Imbecile. They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different. “No, I’m fine. Now it occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a better way.
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