Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side. Let—it—fall. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. 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. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips.
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