“That’s it,” she said. 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. " "We'll be waiting for you. ” “I was late. Sheppard; "most fortunate for me. " "Very well, sir.
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