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pg.79

hand upon the cheek and the pulsing murmer of the surf sounded distant and evanescent. The silence ebbed and flowed and swirled around sweeping up and carrying one's emotions like a twisting wind scattering the sand through a star-jeweled [[strikethrough]]sky.[[\strikethrough]] evening. There was no lonliness here. Now and then a distant light will flare and curve and, so swiftly that is as if one imagined it, will fade to nothingness.
The contrast between stars and dark heaven slowly,
imperceptibly, decreases and to the east a mere whisper of light is heard rather than seen. Slowly, then faster and faster the light grows from a whisper to a murmer and then to a low husky voice unintelligible but unmistakable.  One by one, the stars glimmer and fade, the first small dark puffs of clouds appear. The voice grows stronger adding power with each passing second. The East
end of the island is discernable, the sky grows bright, the moon pales. The quiet Pacific glows as with a faint light beneath the surface. Stronger and stronger grows the voice, it has confidence and concomitant power. Rising, ever rising in intensity until with one concerted full-throated roar the first few rays of sunlight stab over the ridge to the east to engulf the entire island. It is day.

It is the hottest day we have had here. Dancing,