" "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. 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. ” “Your ideas of fairness—” he remarked, and discontinued that sentence. " "I might have been able to do that if you hadn't told me … she cared. “Look at me. " "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering.
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