"What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. 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. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 21-09-2024 22:34:37
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