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 felt his tongue press into her mouth. I have only to denounce you as a member of the family Valade. My will never faltered. “Beats me. Tell me what you think the island is like.
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