“It good?” she questioned. Nevil nodded, and at once the woman went on. “So. I know much. Rosebud tell me much. She much angry with Seth. She say Seth always—always look for find her white folks. She not want them—these white folks. She love Seth. For her he is the world. So. She say Seth angry, and want her go away. Wana listen. Wana laugh inside. Wana love too. Seth good. He love her much—much. Then she say she think Seth find these white folks.”
“Seth has found Rosebud’s—folk?”
The man’s brows had drawn together over his shifty blue eyes, and a sinister look had replaced the look of triumph that had been there before.
“She say she think.”
“Ah! She only thinks.” Nevil’s thumb was at his mouth again.
“Yes.”
Wanaha finished. The change in the man’s face had checked her desire to pursue the subject. She did not understand its meaning, except that her talk 142 seemed no longer to please him; so she ceased. But Nevil was more interested than she thought.
“And what made her think so?” he asked sharply.
“She not say.”
“Ah, that’s a pity.”