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. ” “Why?” “If I were bad at it, you would be on your way to the hospital by now. " "Well, so long as he gets on his feet in the end.
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