It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. "I've counted ten coffins so far. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. What was the fellow about? Was he being imposed upon? He watched as the man Valade turned back, spreading his hands in the French way.
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