“This way, sar,” said the boy. He preceded us and flung open a door, and a moment later we were back in the room originally assigned to me. Then he went out and closed the door.
The girl guided me to the divan at once, and I sank back on it, still laughing. “Tha’s a goo’ girl,” I said. “Pu’ some pillows unner my head, will you, dear?”
With a flame of disgust in her eyes the girl stooped and, gathering some cushions, began to arrange them under my head. As her face came close to mine I whispered very softly, “Don’t jump. Are we watched?”
For an instant she grew rigid and her eyes met mine with a wild hope and appeal in their depths. Then she went on arranging the pillows under me. “Yes,” she whispered, so softly that I only just caught the word.
“Tha’s right, my dear,” I said, and smiled at her fatuously, “I’m goin’ sleep. Wanna stick aroun’?”
“Shall I sing to you?” she inquired.
“Sure, tha’ll be fine. Go ahead,” and I arranged myself more comfortably and partly closed my eyes.
Under my lids I watched the girl go to a shelf and take down a guitar, selecting it from among a number of other musical instruments there. She came back and, sitting on the divan beside me, began to sing softly. I closed my eyes altogether then, luxuriating in the beauty of the song she sang. For her voice was lovely. But presently I began to breathe more deeply in the hope that she would take the hint and go.
And after a time there was a soft movement beside me, and under half-closed lids I saw her rise, replace the guitar, turn down the light to a glow and steal silently out of the room. I lay perfectly still and waited.
For what seemed to be an interminable time I lay quietly, not daring to open my eyes fully. It was probably only about an hour, although it seemed more like a week. But I soon had cause to rejoice that I had waited so long, for, although I had heard no sound, a sudden light on my eyelids told me that some one had turned up the light in my room again. I was lying with my back to the room now, and so I ventured to open my eyes a little. Of course I could not see who stood in the room at my back directly. But fortunately the hangings on the wall in front of me were of that Indian type of material which is inset with tiny bits of looking-glass. And presently, in one of these I caught a momentary glimpse of the miniature face of my new companion. It was Mrs. Fawcette! And she was approaching the couch on which I lay!