ARMISTICE
The young girl beside him had finished her guava, and now, idly swinging her tennis-bat, stood watching the games in the sunken courts below.
"Please don't consider me a burden," he said. "I would be very glad to sit here and watch you play."
"I have been playing, thank you."
"But you won't let me interfere with anything that—"
"No, Mr. Hamil, I won't let you interfere—with anything."
She stood swinging her bat, apparently preoccupied with her own thoughts—like a very grave goddess, he thought, glancing at her askance—a very young goddess, immersed in celestial reverie far beyond mortal comprehension.
"Do you like guavas?" she inquired. And, closing her own question: "But you had better not until you are acclimated. Do you feel very sleepy, Mr. Hamil?"
"No, I don't," he said.
"Oh! You ought to conform to tradition. There's a particularly alluring hammock on the veranda."