“But the dance you did last night would have been impossible while wearing the long dresses and clothes of civilization.”
Sana looked at Carl with pleading eyes, “Why do you say that? The whole thing is distasteful to me now when I think of it.”
Anxious though he was to hear the whole story, Carl did not wish to force it from the girl, so kept silent, looking out over the desert sands.
Sana, however, read his thoughts. Patting his hand ever so lightly she resumed, “We are friends. I can tell it to you. I know you will understand. Perhaps it is for the best. Who knows?”
Carl, letting his gaze rest on her face, objected with, “No—if it hurts you to tell it, I would rather you would not.”
“But I promised I would. I shall keep my promise. Only, please, please, do not think ill of me. That would hurt more than the story.”
Before Carl could give voice to his thoughts, Sana continued:
“As I said the dance was taught me while under hypnotic influence. Upon coming out of the trance I found that I had partly disrobed myself. I did not realize it then, but I knew later that de Rochelle was using me as a plaything. Not that he ever harmed me. No. He always respected me.
“However, I would not advise any woman to subject herself to hypnotic influence, even if the man be her lawful husband, as I believed de Rochelle would some day be to me. It is wrong, very wrong. The victim does just as the hypnotist wishes—tells him everything—lets him analyze every feeling or passion. Just how far he went with me I shall never know, but I have shed many a bitter tear thinking of the state I found myself in when coming out of a trance.”
“Poor girl. I wish I had that devil here.”