" "We know it," cried several voices. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. " "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. 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 suddenly caught hold of his shoulders and drew him down towards her.
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