She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. Had Valade been to see him? Possibly even yesterday when he was followed by some young lad—and the girl, of course. “I dare not,” she answered. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. ‘We were wondering about that. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. No mercenary consideration influences me. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. “Can’t you SEE how things are?” she said.
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