What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn. She found she was trembling at his nearness and full of a thrilling dread that he might touch her. 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. " "You may go, and welcome, Madam!" rejoined Kneebone, spitefully. .
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