The stair door opens, and an Indian boy, about sixteen years old, enters. He is dressed in ordinary clothes; his dark skin, longish hair, and the noiseless tread of his moccasined feet, are the only suggestions of his race. He bows to Rhoda, who returns his salutation; then, with a glance at Michaelis, he goes out doors.
Rhoda nods toward the closing door.
It's really him Annie's afraid of. He's like a creature from another world, to her.
Michaelis.
Looks at her in an odd, startled way.
Another world?
Rhoda.
Oh, you're used to his people. Your father was a missionary to the Indians, you told me.
Michaelis.
Yes.