” The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. But the world didn’t do that. “It’s THE Society!” said Miss Miniver. She picked up the hand cannon. Do not disquiet yourself. 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. ’ He turned to the lodgekeeper behind him, whose shocked fear had given place to a direful frown.
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