The lines about his mouth gradually softened. "Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" roared Blueskin. 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. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case. " "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly.
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