‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. Passing thought. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. S. 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. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. "Rather a devil," groaned her son, "to have done this.
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