curiosity, like that of a savage who sees a photograph of himself
for the first time! Yes! I want to know what the modern feminine
said to the primitive!"

Manella gave an impatient gesture.

"I do not understand all your fine words"--she said--"But I will
answer you. I told her about you--how you had come to live in the
hut for the dying on the hill rather than at the Plaza--and how I
took to you all the food you asked for, and she seemed amused--"

"Amused?" he echoed.

"Yes--amused. She laughed,--she looks very pretty when she laughs.
And--and she seemed to fancy--"

He lifted himself upright in a sitting posture.

"Seemed to fancy? . . . what?--"

"That I was not bad to look at--" and Manella, gathering sudden
boldness, lifted her dark eyes to his face--"She said I could tell
you that she thinks me quite beautiful! Yes!--quite beautiful!"

He smiled--a smile that was more like a sneer.

"So you are! I've told you so, often. 'There needs no ghost come
from the grave' to emphasise the fact. But she--the purring cat!--
she told you to repeat her opinion to me, because--can you guess
why?"