And yet, considering the
suggestive force of the poor lady's preconceived ideas, the mistake
was not unpardonable. In those surroundings, against that flickering
light, standing, straight and silent in her short skirt and
moccasins, her leaf-brown hair tied with bracken and turned to
midnight black by the shadows, her grey eyes mysterious under their
dark lashes, and her lips unsmiling, Desire might well have been
some beauty of that vanishing race. A princess, perhaps, waiting
with grave courtesy for the welcome due her from her husband's
people.
"And not a bit ashamed of it," murmured Aunt Caroline in what she
fondly hoped was a whisper. "Utterly callous! Benis," in a wavering
voice, "I had a feeling--"
"Wait!" interrupted Benis, producing a notebook and pencil. "Let us
be exact, Aunt. Just when did you notice the feeling first?"
"What difference does that make?" Aunt Caroline's voice was
perceptibly stronger.
"Why," eagerly, "don't you see? If you had the feeling at the time
(allowing for difference by the sun) it is a case of actual
clairvoyance. If the feeling was experienced previous to the fact
then it is a case of premonition only, and, if after, the whole
thing can be explained as mere telepathy."
"Oh," said Aunt Caroline. But she said it thoughtfully. Her voice
was normal.
"Wonderful thing--this psychic sense," went on her nephew. "Fancy
you're knowing all about it even before you got my letter!"
"Did you send a letter?" asked Aunt Caroline after a pause.
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