“I like to think of your offer. 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. “Soon enough, John. “It is not that. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him.
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