He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. He waited for hours after dusk but she never arrived. 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. “Our ways happened to lie together. “Please call me Carol. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. ‘I know you, Gerald. His sword then came in for his scrutiny: he felt at, and appeared satisfied with its edge.
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