“Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh trouble has come to you. 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. Not alone with her, that’s sure. ’ She advanced towards him. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen.
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