"No, but you heard the result," said the young lady, with an air of conviction. "What did the child see? What did he say?"
"He said he saw Saloo—and that Saloo was a woman!"
"Oh!" cried Verona, suddenly sitting erect. "Now that is too ridiculous; no woman could be so crafty—or so—wicked."
"Many women are both."
"You speak from experience——?"
"No, thank God; I know little about them!"
For a moment there was an absolute silence, merely broken by the soft lapping of the water against the sides of the old boat. Salwey looked at his companion as she reclined among the cushions; her home life was telling upon her, the East was stealing her rare beauty, her face was colourless, the exquisite outlines of cheek and throat were emaciated, and the brilliant eyes looked lack-lustre and spiritless.
"Tell me," she began suddenly, "is it only children who see things in the ink pool?"
"Yes. Only children!"
"But why?"