Part 7 For a time the biological laboratory was full of healing virtue. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. The Roof and the Window. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. 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.
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