But it was otherwise with the carpenter. Her anger died and she eyed him. 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. . He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. He was beautiful despite the odd angle. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark.
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