"I will get out," she said. "There is something I should like to say to you."
I handed her down. She led the way on to the terrace. A few paces behind, Nagaski, with drooping head and depressed mien, followed us. When we halted, he sat upon his haunches and watched me.
"Nagaski," I remarked, "does not seem to be quite himself to-day."
"It is your presence," she answered, "which affects him. He dislikes you."
I looked at him thoughtfully. If Nagaski disliked me, I was very sure that I returned the sentiment to a most unreasonable extent.
"I wonder why," I said. "I have always been decent to him."
"Nagaski has antipathies," she said quietly. "It is a good thing that we are not in his own country. There his breed are supposed to have some of the qualities of seers, and his dislike would be a very ominous thing."
"Are you superstitious?" I asked.
"I am not sure," she answered gravely. "If I were, I should certainly avoid you. His attitude is a distinct warning."
I drew a little nearer to her. It seemed to me that she was very pale, and there was trouble in her face.