t jewels. Her arms were bare
save for scintillating stones set in broad gold bands; long pendants,
that seemed to live and breathe with their throbbing rubies, trembled
from the tiny lobes of her shell-pink ears. Her throat was bare, her
gown so daringly low cut at breast and back that Betty stared and
flushed and turned away from the sight of her.

At her best was Zoraida tonight. Life stood high in her blood; zest
shone like a bright fire in her eyes. A moment she poised, looking the
queen which she meant to become, which already in her heart she felt
herself. The inclination of her head as she greeted them, the
graciousness which the moment drew from her, were regal.

Even the heavy arm-chair at the head of the table had the look of a
throne. Two men drew it back for her, moved it into place when she was
seated. Then she looked to her guests, smiled and nodded and in
silence each accepted the place given him. Thus Jim Kendric sat at the
other end of the table in a chair like Zoraida's. At his right was
Betty who, since she averted her face from both him and Zoraida, kept
her eyes on her plate. At his left was Ruiz Rios. To right and left
of Zoraida sat Bruce and Barlow.

"I am afraid," said Zoraida lightly, embracing them all with her quick
smile, "that I have seemed to lack in courtesy to my friends today!
But here, _amigos_, when you come to know our land of the sun, you will
understand that the long hot days are for rest and solitude in shady
places while it is during the nights that one lives." A goblet of wine
as yellow as butter stood at her hand having just been poured from an
ancient misshapen earthen bottle. She lifted it and held it while the
other glasses were filled. "I drink with you, my friends, to many
golden nights!"

She scarcely more than touched the yellow wine with her lips and looked
to the others. Barlow, still surly, tossed off his drink at a gulp.
Bruce drank slowly, a little, and set his glass down. Betty did not
lift her eyes and kept her hands in her lap. Ruiz tasted eagerly and
his eyes sparkled and widened. Kendric mechanically set his glass to
his lips, drank sparingly and marveled. For never had he tasted
vintage like this. Its fragrance in his nostrils rose with strange
pleasant sensation to his brain; a drop on his palate seemed to pass
directly into his blood and electrically thrill throughout his whole
body. The draft was like a magic brew; potent and seduct