The girl laughed.
“You are a Tarmangani,” she replied. “The Mangani are covered with hair—you would call them apes.”
“Then Korak was a white man?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And he was—ah—your—er—your—?” He paused, for he found it rather difficult to go on with that line of questioning while the girl’s clear, beautiful eyes were looking straight into his.
“My what?” insisted Meriem, far too unsophisticated in her unspoiled innocence to guess what the Hon. Morison was driving at.
“Why—ah—your brother?” he stumbled.
“No, Korak was not my brother,” she replied.
“Was he your husband, then?” he finally blurted.
Far from taking offense, Meriem broke into a merry laugh.