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. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. " And the great thief-taker indulged himself in a chuckle at the effect produced by this announcement. Yet you make our Bohemianism seem like a vulgar thing. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. . “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. .
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