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" "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. Move. There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well. 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.
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