Free, there is nothing left to her but the canal. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. ” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. 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. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. ‘To take a baby all the way to France without a wet-nurse. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry.
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