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 found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. You have neither reason nor logic. The biological laboratory, perpetually viewing life as pairing and breeding and selection, and again pairing and breeding, seemed only a translated generalization of that assertion. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. “Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. “No.
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