“I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. ” “Very well. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. She brought the cups of cocoa back to the bedroom. 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. ‘Like a vision she were. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided.
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