Even now it stirred something in her, something urgent and
afraid. But she was too tired to be urged or frightened. She refused
to listen.
In the afternoon she had sat out in the sun, not thinking, willing
to be rested by the quiet and drugged by the scent of pine and sea.
To her had come Sami, appearing out of nothing as by magic, his
butter-colored face aglow with joy. Sami had almost broken up her
weary calm. He was so glad, so warm, so alive, so little! But even
while he snuggled against her side, her Self had drifted away. It
would not feel or know. It was not ready yet for anything save rest.
Li Ho had made luncheon, Li Ho had brought tea. Otherwise Li Ho had
left her alone. About one thing only had he been fussy. She must not
sleep in her old room. It was not aired. It needed "heap scrub." He
had arranged, he said, a little tent "all velly fine." desire was
passive. She did not care where she slept.
When bedtime had come, Li Ho had taken her to the tent. It was
cozily hidden in the bush and, as he had promised, quite
comfortable. But she thought his manner odd. "Are you nervous, Li
Ho?" she asked with a smile.
The Chinaman blinked rapidly, disdaining reply. But in his turn
asked a question--his first since her arrival. Had the honorable
Professor Spence received an insignificant parcel? Desire replied
vaguely that she did not know. What was in the parcel?
"Velly implotant plasel," said Li Ho gravely.
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