What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. 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. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do.
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