"What would you be willing to do?" ventured Mrs. Tome Gallien.
"What would you want me to do?" relaxed Solvei ever so slightly.
Through Mrs. Tome Gallien's busy brain a dozen possible answers tested themselves one against the other. 145
"Well, would you be willing to—to tell me a little story?" she chose as the most promising one.
"Tell you a little story?" queried Solvei. Once again her whole face darkened with suspicion.
"Yes, about my little island," hurried Mrs. Tome Gallien. "It was dark when I came and they put me right into this bed. I do not leave my bed, you know."
"What?" quivered Solvei. "This most beautiful little island, you have not seen it—since you came?" In the very tensity of the question all the blue seemed to surge back suddenly to her eyes, all the pink to her cheeks. "Why of a sureness," she cried, "will I tell you about this little island!" Softly then for a moment she patted her skirts and recrossed her slippered feet and fumbled with the big silk tie that closed her collar. Then quite geographically she began her narrative. "First of all," she explained, "it is a round little island."
"Really, you surprise me," said Mrs. Tome Gallien purely automatically. "So many islands are square." 146
"And there are fish upon it!" glowed the narrator.
"Oh, surely not upon it?" shivered Mrs. Tome Gallien.