"Don't you get bored?"
"Not at all; I--" Mara hesitated, then turned her pale blue eyes on the flushed and lovely face of her companion--"I dream," she said quietly.
"What do you dream about?" asked Patricia curiously.
Mara passed her pale hand across her pale forehead. "I can hardly tell you," she said in her low voice, which suggested softly breathing midnight winds; "there is something wanting."
"Something wanting?"
"To bring back that which I dream about."
"But what do you dream about?" persisted Miss Carrol, more puzzled than ever, as she looked at Mara's pale, pathetic face.
"The something will tell me when it brings it back."
"Brings what back?"
"That which I dream about?"