” “Don’t imperil my reputation before I am established,” she answered, smiling. It is the vapouring school girl. She shut the door behind her. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. “But where are you going? Lucy, you’re safe here. 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.
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