That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. "Off!" she cried with a prolonged and piercing shriek. 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. 97 “For what, kiddo?” Larry turned his head slightly to one side.
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