She had need of a devoted cavalier and Jack had proved eminently valuable. She fled. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights. Anna sent her away. 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 was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. . It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male.
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