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. Kneebone's 346 XIV. . " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. " "It has done me a whole lot of good to meet you. Only think how compromising. No matter. Ennison better than I have ever told you,” she said slowly.
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