\" He said to her after he bought his own ticket. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. 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. Strange, I shouldn't know him when he called on me. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for dinner. But his grief was of short duration.
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