“Oh, no! My—my ankle hurts a little.”
He looked at her sympathetically. “But not that much,” he said.
She gave a forced little laugh. “What a mind reader you are! Can you tell my fortune?”
“I should have to read it in your hand.”
She would have extended her hand, but for Transley’s ring.
“No.... No. You’ll have to read it in—in the stars.”
“Then look at me.” She did so, innocently.
“I cannot read it there,” he said, after his long gaze had begun to whip the color to her cheeks. “There is no answer.”
She turned again to the water, and after a long while she heard his voice, very low and earnest.
“Zen, I could read a fortune for you, if you would not be offended. We are only chance acquaintances—not very well acquainted, yet—”