"Forgive you, Numè!" He turned his eyes reluctantly from the girl's flushed face. "Oh! little witch," he whispered, holding her hands with a passionate fierceness. "You tempt me so—tempt me to forget everything save that I am with you."
She let her hands rest in his a moment. Then she withdrew them and rose to her feet restlessly. Sinclair rose also, looking at her with yearning in his face.
"Why do you speag lig' thad, Mr. Sinka?" she asked.
"Numè, Numè, don't you understand—don't you know?"
"No! Numè does not onderstand Americazan. Mrs. Davees tell me thad the Americazan genleman mag' luf to poor liddle Japanese women, but he nod really luf—only laf at her."
A cold anger crept over Sinclair.
"So she has been telling you some more yarns?"
"No; she telling thad yarns long, long time ago."
He recovered himself with an effort.