“It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. ’ ‘Yes, that is what he said,’ agreed Melusine, pleased to find him of so ready an understanding. ’ I said. 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. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto.
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