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. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. . " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. Yon must be mine to-night. That's well. I’ve already been accepted to a couple of schools out east. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom.
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