“Your arm is like a rock, Miriam,” she whispered.
This winter idyll was drenched in an arbor of delicate flowers that grew from the basketball scents of the dancers. A cloth seemed to cover Miriam’s eyes; but as she opened them, it was Drewena’s white-tinted hair that confused her. The soft waves and ringlets covered Miriam’s arm and the paths that had intrigued her so long were now undivided. Nevertheless, as she breathed of Drewena’s cheek, that which had been unrevealed before came swiftly in an explicable panic. She stopped in the middle of the floor. Her mouth was dry.
“I’d better prepare for my act,” she said quite suddenly.
Without a word Drewena broke from her, and Miriam followed her quick steps through the archway.
“How irresponsible you are to-night, my Miriam,” she breathed, a grave smile darkening her eyes. Then she called Tai.
The child ran into the powder room and bowed reverently before her.
“You will obey my friend for a trick,” she said. “It will not take long.” She placed her hand for a second on his shoulder before she left.
“It will be fun, Tai,” said Miriam, noting the child’s frightened look.
Tai bowed again.