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 yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. “Both!” said Ann Veronica. ” “I shall have no objection at all,” Anna assured him. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her.
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