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. . But really it is much more than that. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute.
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