Here she seems to have developed into a brilliant woman with more character and steadfastness than I should ever have given her credit for. Sailors would leave them at the trader's. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. 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.
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