” He crossed himself and grinned. He hated horizons. Wood, contemptuously. Blueskin, however, was not unattended. Come. Someone, it appeared, was trying to profit from that fact. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth.
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