The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. 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 means nothing!” She whispered loudly. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. That was an admission all right. But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. \"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you.
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