“I was only—only afraid—that if I should do some little things to amuse you, I might stir—stir up—interfere—encounter some sinister current—and betray myself—betray my whereabouts——”
“Well, for heaven’s sake don’t venture then!” he said with emphasis. “Don’t do anything to stir up any other wireless—any Yezidee——”
“I am wondering,” she reflected, “just what I dare venture to do to amuse you.”
“Don’t bother about me. I wouldn’t have you try any psychic stunt down here, and run the chance of stirring up some Asiatic devil somewhere!”
She nodded absently, occupied with her own thoughts, sitting there, chin on hand, her musing eyes intensely blue.
“I think I can amuse you,” she concluded, “without bringing any harm to myself.”
“Don’t try it, Tressa!—--”
“I’ll be very careful. Now, sit quite still—closer to me, please.”
He edged closer; and became conscious of an indefinable freshness in the air that enveloped him, like the scent of something young and growing. But it was no magic odour,—merely the virginal scent of her hair and skin that even clung to her summer gown.
He heard her singing under her breath to herself: