the sun as it sank into the ocean, her languorous eyes filled with a
tender light.

Challis, sitting on the end of the table regarding her with half-amused
interest as does a man watching a child with a toy, suddenly flushed
hotly. "By God! I can't be such a fool as to begin to LOVE her in
reality, but yet . . . Come here, Nalia," and he drew her to him, and,
turning her face up so that he might look into her eyes, he asked:

"Nalia, hast thou ever told me any lies?"

The steady depths of those dark eyes looked back into his, and she
answered:

"Nay, I fear thee too much to lie. Thou mightst kill me."

"I do but ask thee some little things. It matters not to me what the
answer is. Yet see that thou keepest nothing hidden from me."

The girl, with parted lips and one hand on his, waited.

"Before thou became my wife, Nalia, hadst thou any lovers?"

"Yes, two--Kapua and Tafu-le-Afi."

"And since?"

"May I choke and perish here before thee if I lie! None."

Challis, still holding her soft brown chin in his hand, asked her one