His touch seemed to restore her shaken sanity. She tossed back her thick, glossy locks and cast a fearful glance over her shoulder, while she pressed closer to the Cimmerian as if seeking security in the contact.
'They caught me in the streets,' she muttered, shuddering. 'Lying in wait, beneath a dark arch—black men, like great, hulking apes! Set have mercy on me! I shall dream of it!'
'What were you doing out on the streets this time of night?' he inquired, fascinated by the satiny feel of her sleek skin under his questing fingers.
She raked back her hair and stared blankly up into his face. She did not seem aware of his caresses.
'My lover,' she said. 'My lover drove me into the streets. He went mad and tried to kill me. As I fled from him I was seized by those beasts.'
'Beauty like yours might drive a man mad,' quoth Conan, running his fingers experimentally through her glossy tresses.
She shook her head, like one emerging from a daze. She no longer trembled, and her voice was steady.
'It was the spite of a priest—of Totrasmek, the high priest of Hanuman, who desires me for himself—the dog!'
'No need to curse him for that,' grinned Conan. 'The old hyena has better taste than I thought.'
She ignored the bluff compliment. She was regaining her poise swiftly.