“Understand me,” she said, fixing her great languid eyes upon his in a fashion that made him exceedingly uncomfortable, “understand, Vernoon, that if you go out anywhere, it must be in your mask, which you can only put off when you are alone with me.”
“Why?”
“Because, Vernoon, I do not choose that any other woman should see your face. If a woman looks upon your uncovered face, remember that she dies—not nicely.”
Alan stared at her blankly, being unable to find appropriate Asiki words in which to reply to this threat. But the Asika only leaned back in her chair and laughed at his evident confusion and dismay, till a new thought struck her.
“Your lips are free now,” she said; “kiss my hand after the fashion of your own country,” and she stretched it out to Alan, leaving him no choice but to obey her.
“Why,” she went on mischievously, taking his hand and in turn touching it with her red lips, “why, are you a thief, Vernoon? That ring was mine and you have stolen it. How did you steal that ring?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, through Jeekie, “I found it on my finger. I cannot understand how it came there. I understand nothing of all this talk.”
“Well, well, keep it, Vernoon, only give me that other ring of yours in exchange.”
“I cannot,” he replied, colouring. “I promised to wear it always.”
“Whom did you promise?” she asked with a flash of rage. “Was it a woman? Nay, I see, it is a man’s ring, and that is well, for otherwise I would bring a curse on her, however far off she may be dwelling. Say no more and forgive my anger. A vow is a vow—keep your ring. But where is that one you used to wear in bygone days? I recall that it had a cross upon it, not this star and figure of an eagle.”