She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. Practically. 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. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. “You can date whomever you wish.
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