Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. 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. And what a noise they made! This is how I used to call them. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. Capes spoke casually of their plans for work. " "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,—and then all is over.
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