Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. 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. And then: “Of course! Always. " He had now gained the high road.
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