She nodded. "You came just in time, Comrade Colt," she said.
"Thank God for that," he said.
"There is no God," she reminded him.
Colt flushed. "We are creatures of heredity and habit," he explained.
Zora Drinov smiled. "That is true," she said, "but it is our business to break a great many bad habits not only for ourselves, but for the entire world."
Since he had laid her upon the cot, Colt had been quietly appraising the girl. He had not known that there was a white woman in Zveri's camp, but had he it is certain that he would not have anticipated one at all like this girl. He would rather have visualized a female agitator capable of accompanying a band of men to the heart of Africa as a coarse and unkempt peasant woman of middle age; but this girl, from her head of glorious, wavy hair to her small well-shaped foot, suggested the antithesis of a peasant origin and, far from being unkempt, was as trig and smart as it were possible for a woman to be under such circumstances and, in addition, she was young and beautiful.
"Comrade Zveri is absent from camp?" he asked.
"Yes, he is away on a short expedition."
"And there is no one to introduce us to one another?" he asked, with a smile.
"Oh, pardon me," she said. "I am Zora Drinov."