“If I can only sleep!” she thought. “Perhaps, in the morning[Pg 341]—”
She was beginning to feel a little drowsy now. How heavenly it would be to sleep, even for a little while! To sleep and to forget!
The wind was blowing through the dark little room, bringing to her the perfume of the roses—a wonderful fragrance. It was wonderful, but almost too strong. It was too strong. It troubled her.
“I’ll put them out on the window sill,” she murmured. “It’s such a queer scent!”
But she was too tired, too unspeakably tired. She didn’t seem able to get up, or even to move. She sighed faintly, and closed her eyes. The wind blew, strong and steady, heavy with that sweet and subtle odor.
“Look out!” cried Mr. Houseman. “She’s going about!”
Lexy laughed, and ducked down into the cockpit while the boom swung over. The little sailboat was flying over the sunny water like a bird. There was not a cloud in the pure bright sky, not a shadow in her joyous heart.
“I am so glad you came!” she said.
“Of course I came,” he answered. “I had to swim all the way from India.”
“Mercy!” cried Lexy. “That must have been dreadful! But why?”