" She was too artificial yet to think of her beauty; and yet
the power of personality is part of the naked truth of things.
She looked over her shoulder, and saw the light at the brig's
foreyard-arm burning with a strong, calm flame in the dust of starlight
suspended above the coast. She heard the heavy bump as of a boat run
headlong against the ladder. They were back! She rose in sudden and
extreme agitation. What should she say? How much? How to begin? Why say
anything? It would be absurd, like talking seriously about a dream.
She would not dare! In a moment she was driven into a state of mind
bordering on distraction. She heard somebody run up the gangway steps.
With the idea of gaining time she walked rapidly aft to the taffrail.
The light of the brig faced her without a flicker, enormous amongst the
suns scattered in the immensity of the night.
She fixed her eyes on it. She thought: "I shan't tell him anything.
Impossible. No! I shall tell everything." She expected every moment to
hear her husband's voice and the suspense was intolerable because she
felt that then she must decide. Somebody on deck was babbling excitedly.
She devoutly hoped d'Alcacer would speak first and thus put off the
fatal moment. A voice said roughly: "What's that?" And in the midst of
her distress she recognized Carter's voice, having noticed that young
man who was of a different stamp from the rest of the crew.
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