"If you arrest him, you must arrest me also. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. I will shed no more blood. ” His eyes were closed. 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. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom.
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