. "Spring!—I never knew any. The Night-Cellar. It was hard to resist. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate. All that is jolly and as it should be. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening. 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. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes.
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