The sun was breaking above the sea line, and the Pacific, heaving to the swell, lay all to the eastward in meadows of gold. The little boat, moving gently to the vast and tremorless heaving of the sea, seemed abandoned in that world where nothing moved save the swell, and, far away, a frigate bird drifting south, dwindling and vanishing at last, blotted out in the blue of the morning sky.…
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