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. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. "But, however, it may turn out, I disown you. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening.
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