He hugged her when he saw her in the hallway. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. I'll show you the Shamien; and we can talk all we want. 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. This obstacle being removed, in his eagerness to proceed, he had forgotten to take his little charge with him.
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