Her long lashes raised. The slits widened.
Cub forgot his irritation and gazed helplessly.
Her lips began to part scornfully and she said:
“Well ... at last! Unchaperoned and alone! Can I believe my own eyes? Give me a cigarette while I regain my composure.”
“No, Miss Merriweather. You are much better, but you mustn’t smoke!”
She turned her back and lay utterly silent. Then in a husky pleading voice she began:
“Of course you are too famous to be human! I didn’t know you were famous. I ought to though! Famous, dictatorial, and snappish. So overbearing flies won’t even bite you! One of these pure-women-men. No smoking allowed in His Presence!”
Cub laughed spontaneously, and the girl flopped over furiously.
The eyes blacked and the lashes began to wilt:
“Shut up!”