Twice we hired caterers. 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. Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. ’ ‘Probably not.
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