’ Melusine hesitated. ’ The smile vanished. I did not reckon upon—him. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. From long experience with both races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this girl. ‘Parbleu, the bullet is still inside you,’ Melusine guessed, remembering how the Mother Abbess had diagnosed Leonardo’s suffering when he had first come to the convent. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. I'll send for Wu Fang. 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.
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