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. Wild is sure to be up. “He has asked to see some one,” he whispered to the doctor. ’ Melusine did not forget. The boy’s besotted. They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug.
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