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. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage.
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