I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her. . “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. 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. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered.
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