She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently protested his innocence. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. "You must not remain here," he said. Although she did not understand why he persisted in this pursuit of her affairs. He saw what he had done only as it related to Ruth. 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. The boy’s besotted.
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