"Al'mah—it is Al'mah?" she said.
Al'mah's face turned paler, and she swayed slightly, then she recovered herself. "Oh, it is you, Mrs. Byng!" she said, almost dazedly.
After an instant's hesitation she held out a hand. "It's a queer place for it to happen," she added.
Jasmine noticed the hesitation and wondered at the words. She searched the other's face. What did Al'mah's look mean? It seemed composite of paralyzing surprise, of anxiety, of apprehension. Was there not also a look of aversion?
"Everything seems to come all at once," Al'mah continued, as though in explanation.
Jasmine had no inkling as to what the meaning of the words was; and, with something of her old desire to conquer those who were alien to her, she smiled winningly.
"Yes, things concentrate in life," she rejoined.
"I've noticed that," was the reply. "Fate seems to scatter, and then to gather in all at once, as though we were all feather-toys on strings."
After a moment, as Al'mah regarded her with vague wonder, though now she smiled too, and the anxiety, apprehension, and pain went from her face, Jasmine said: "Why did you come here? You had a world to work for in England."
"I had a world to forget in England," Al'mah replied. Then she added suddenly, "I could not sing any longer."