“I am a fool,” he said. "Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. "Certainly not," replied Gay. 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. That is where life takes advantage of youth.
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