“I MUST speak to you,” he said. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. A vast indifference settled down upon him. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. " "What do you mean, Sir?" asked Trenchard. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.
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