"Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. " "Are you sure of that?" returned Winifred, looking uneasily at Jack. 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. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. She thought she had hidden well from him. ‘André? Que dit-il?’ ‘My wife does not understand,’ said the fellow, frowning deeply.
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