"I'll have my cot in here," said Spurlock to Ruth, "where this table is. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. You must be lonely here with only a few men friends. 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. . They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. Life is so good. Not alone with her, that’s sure. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. ’ ‘Oh, that,’ Gerald said cautiously.
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