"It's a very realistic bronze, isn't it?" she asked.
But he didn't answer. "Was it the khitmatgar?" he pressed.
And now she didn't answer.
"The bronze was a present," she went on instead. "Do you mind setting it upright again?"
He did so. "Odd I never saw it before," was his comment. "I thought I'd seen everything in this room. When I was here two days ago it seemed to me that every object spoke of you. I missed nothing. And yet—"
"That came this morning," she told him. "A gift without a card."
Young Andrews frowned.
"It's a horrid thing," he said. "I don't like it."
"It's beautiful!"
"It's ill-omened. I feel it is."