On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked his lantern. 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. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. " "Yes, yer hon'r," replied the chairman, taking the note.
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