2. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. 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. ’ ‘But I can’t leave you, miss. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. "This must be prevented," he added to himself.
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