Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. " "What is it?" asked Thames. "No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. ‘Good. Look at the poor victim at your feet. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. 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. "I'll not believe it.
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