She watched the captain tuck the pistol back in his pocket, and perch on the edge of the big desk. The sun never shone upon a lovelier couple than now approached the altar. 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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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 08:15:42