The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation. 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. The child was still safe. "I am too much honoured—too happy in the union.
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