peculiar sensation she had felt in the train coming down, a feeling of
prescience and foreboding, of brooding evil. It gripped her heart with
cold hands and she changed her intention of going to Nyoda's room and
asking what was the matter with Veronica. Suddenly she felt that Nyoda
would not know. All her heart cried out in love and loyalty to Veronica.
The others must not find out what she had seen to-night. Veronica had
simply gone out to take a walk in the moonlight; possibly she had a
headache or was unable to sleep. It was a trick of the eyes that she had
thought someone had been with her in the road; the distance and the
waving shadows had deceived her. Why shouldn't Veronica steal out
quietly and go for a walk if she wanted to? What time was it, anyway,
eleven? Twelve? Sahwah switched on the light and looked at her watch. It
was half past two.

She shivered as the freshening breeze came in through the window and
became conscious that her bare feet were cold on the polished floor. She
jumped into bed to get warm, intending to get up again and watch until
Veronica returned, but the warmth of the bed sent a delicious languor
through her limbs; she yawned once, twice; her eyes began to ache in the
moonlight and she closed them to shut it out.

Presently she opened them again and there was the sun shining in on the
bed. Moonlight and all its spells had fled. Had she dreamed that about
Veronica last night? Resolutely she sprang from bed and tiptoed down the
hall to Veronica's door. The tall clock on the stair landing showed a
quarter to six. The door was half ajar and she peeped in. Veronica was
in bed, sound asleep, her long lashes sweeping her ruddy cheek, her lips
curved in a smile, like a baby's. Her clothes were on the chair beside
the bed, and they did not look as if they had been disturbed in the
night.