“But when I tell you that only a wild animal or a snake or a bird could move in that jungle! The bog is one vast black quicksand. There’s death in those depths.”
“Victor.”
“Yes?” He looked around at her. She was pale. He came up and took her hand inquiringly.
“I don’t feel—well,” she murmured. “I’m not ill, you understand——”
“What’s the matter, Tressa?”
She shook her head drearily: “I don’t know.... I wonder whether I should have tried to amuse you this morning——”
“You don’t think you’ve stirred up any of those Yezidee beasts, do you?” he asked sharply.
And as she did not answer, he asked again whether she was afraid that what she had done that morning might have had any occult consequences. And he reminded her that she had hesitated to venture anything on that account.
His voice, in spite of him, betrayed great nervousness now, and he saw apprehension in her eyes, also.
“Why should that man in white have followed us, keeping out of sight in the woods?” he went on. “Did you notice about him anything to disturb you, Tressa?”