ray upon the table and bent down, resting her
elbows upon it, her hands upturned and her chin nestling in her palms.
The smoke from the cigarette, now held in her fingers, mingled with
her disheveled hair. She looked fully into my face, a long, searching
look; then her lips parted in the slow, voluptuous smile of the
Orient. Without moving her head she turned the wonderful eyes (rendered
doubly luminous by the _kohl_ with which her lashes and lids were
darkened) upon Fletcher.

"What you and your strong friend drinking?" she said softly.

Her voice possessed a faint husky note which betrayed her Eastern
parentage, yet it had in it the siren lure which is the ancient
heritage of the Eastern woman--a heritage more ancient than the tribe
of the _Ghazeeyeh_, to one of whom I had mentally likened Zarmi.

"Same thing," replied Fletcher promptly; and raising his hand, he
idly toyed with a huge gold ear-ring which she wore.

Still resting her elbows upon the table and bending down between us,
Zarmi turned her slumbering, half-closed black eyes again upon me,
then slowly, languishingly, upon Fletcher. She replaced the yellow
cigarette between her lips. He continued to toy with the ear-ring.

Suddenly the girl sprang upright, and from its hiding-place within
the silken scarf, plucked out a Malay _kris_ with a richly jeweled
hilt. Her eyes now widely opened and blazing, she struck at my
companion!

I half rose from my chair, stifling a cry of horror; but Fletcher,
regarding her fixedly, never moved ... and Zarmi stayed her hand just
as the point of the dagger had reached his throat!

"You see," she whispered softly but intensely, "how soon I can kill
you."

Ere I had overcome the amazement and horror with which her action
had filled me, she had suddenly clutched me by the shoulder, and,
turning from Fletcher, had the point of the _kris_ at _my_ throat!

"You, too!" she whispered, "you too!"

Lower and lower she bent, the needle point of the weapon pricking my
skin, until her beautiful, evil face almost touched mine. Then,
miraculously, the fire died out of her eyes; they half closed again
and became languishing, luresome _Ghazeeyeh_ eyes. She laughed softly,
wickedly, and puffed cigarette smoke into my face.

Thrusting her dagger into her waist-belt, and snatching up the brass
tray, she swayed down the room, chanting some barbaric song in her
husky Eastern voice.

I inhaled deeply and glanced across at my companion.