“Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said, shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. 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. Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again.
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