“No,” said Chester promptly; “sit thou here, wood-pigeon, and tell me of the customs I read of here.”
She sat down beside him, and leant her dark head against his knee, fanning herself the while she answered his questions.
“As it was then, Kesta, so is it now. And if it were to advantage thee I should do likewise. For is it not the duty of a woman to let all men see how great is her love for her husband? And if a great chief or king of thy land came here, would I not obey thee?”
Chester laughed. “No great chiefs of my land come here—only ship-captains and missionaries.”
She turned and looked up into his face silently for a few moments, then rose.
“I know thy meaning now. But surely this mean-faced missionary is not to be compared to thee! Kesta, 'tis the fair-faced woman that is in thy mind. Be it as you will. Yet I knew not that the customs of thy land were like unto ours.”
“What the devil is she driving at!” thought Chester, utterly failing to grasp her meaning.
Early next morning Tulpe was gone.
****