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27 Her beloved mother Marina was the first in the house to catch it, the first to die. 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. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence. ‘For once, you’re talking like a sensible man. But they’ve just been to see General Charvill. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe.
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