Athalie smiled to herself as at some amusing memory evoked.
"If Mrs. Connor ever knew how she is followed about by so many purring pussies and little wagging dogs—I mean dogs and pussies who are no longer what we call 'alive,'—I don't know what she'd think. Sometimes the place is full of them, Clive—such darling little creatures. Hafiz sees them; and watches and watches, but never moves."
Clive was staring a trifle hard; Athalie, lazily stretching her arms, glanced at him with that humorous expression which hinted of gentlest mockery.
"Don't worry; nothing follows you, Clive, except an idle girl who finds no time for anything else, so busy are her thoughts with you."
He bent forward and kissed her; and she clasped both hands behind his head, drawing it nearer.
"Have you missed me, Athalie?"
"You could never understand how much."
"Did you find me in your crystal?"
"No; I saw only the sea and on the horizon a stain of smoke, and a gull flying."
He drew her closely into his arms: "God," he breathed, "if anything ever should happen to you!—and I—alone on earth—and blind—"