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. "Good bye, Jack! Keep up your spirits. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation.
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