Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. And for many years, that was the way it was. "Will he post the cole? Will he come down with the dues? Ask him that?" cried Blueskin. 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. ’ ‘Oh yes, yes. You are afraid of the warmth in your blood.
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