"
All unaware, she had led him along the blinding white wall of the
Forrester compound, and halted in the hot shadow that lay under the
tiled gateway. As though timidly, her hand stole up and rested on
his forearm.
"So sorry." The confined space, narrow and covered, gave to her voice a
plaintive ring. "That's twice you protected me, and I hurt you.--You
_are_ different. This doesn't happen between people, often. When you
did--that, for me, yesterday, didn't it seem different and rather
splendid, and--like a book?"
"It seemed nonsense," replied Rudolph, sturdily. "The heat. We were
fools."
She laughed again, and at close range watched him from under consciously
drooping lashes that almost veiled a liquid brilliancy. Everywhere the
cicadas kept the heat vibrating with their strident buzz. It recalled
some other widespread mist of treble music, long ago. The trilling of
frogs, that had been, before.
"You dear, brave boy," she said slowly. "You're so honest, too. I'm not
ungrateful. Do you know what I'd like--Oh, there's the _amah!"_
She drew back, with an impatient gesture.
"That stupid, fat Mrs.
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