Her hand came out and touched his cheek, her eyelids closed.
"Dearest stranger," she whispered.... A moment later she repeated with a smile, "Stranger."
Her face changed. The unspeakable thing to Romney was that part of the smile lingered, though her eyes opened and white rays of purest horror shone in them. Her lips parted, the smile holding to them, as something holds to life, her fingers plucking his cheek.
"To-night—don't go away from me to-night! I will hear them. They always come when any one dies. I knew they would come for him, that he would die or go mad, and they would come.
"They are out in the rocks and sand, they come closer where death is.... And he was good as a boy; a good brother. I came to him and he was changed. I knew he would never go back. When I heard them the first time and saw how they affected him, I knew they would come for him."
Romney crushed her leaping fingers in his hand.
"Listen," he said sharply. "Tell me what you mean."
"Oh, have you not heard them laughing and sobbing at night?"
"The hyenas—"
She shuddered full length, hiding her face in his arms.