"But I have one last request to make. She saw his eyes glaze over. 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. "What has happened?" asked Sister Prudence. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch.
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