Everyone will grumble to you confidentially—Miss Ellicot, she’s our swagger young lady, you know—up there, next to Miss White, she will tell you that it is so out of the world here, so far away from everyone one knows. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. 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. We’ll have Trodger check it out later. This was enough for the poor widow. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s.
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