nds than the typewriter;
even so, her every move showed perfect coordination of body and mind, a
large surplus of vital energy carefully controlled. Had she turned to
some different career she might easily have developed into some great
athlete or else a great singer. Her beautiful voice had that rare
natural gift of using the whole thorax for a vessel of resonance instead
of merely the mouth.

* * * * *

It was this voice which fascinated Lee more than the strangeness of the
scene, more than her beauty, more even than the things she said. It was
like remembering some haunting melody, it transported him into the
forgotten land of his youth. It made him feel happy except that suddenly
he felt painfully conscious of his ill fitting suit, the emaciation of
his body, the atabrine stains on the skin of his face, the wildness and
the grey of his hair.

With the shyness of a boy, he accepted first the firm pressure of her
hand and then a seat which was another piece of ancient Egyptian
furniture.

"Dr. Scriven will be with you in a few minutes," she said.
"Unfortunately he is a little delayed by an official visitor from
Washington. The unexpected always happens over here. Meanwhile...."

She suddenly interrupted herself. The searching look of her deep blue
eyes startled Lee by its directness. There was in it a depth of
understanding and of sympathy which penetrated to his heart. He felt as
if she already knew about him and knew everything. It lasted only a few
seconds before she continued, but in a different, a warmer voice:

"I think we can drop the usual conventions," she said. "We know you, Dr.
Scriven and I. We know your work as published in the journal of
entomology. It is the work of a man of genius. You are not the kind of
man whom I must entertain with the usual small talk about the weather,
how you have enjoyed your trip, or whether you feel very tired--as you
probably do--and all the rest of it. That is routine with most of our
visitors; it's quite a relief to feel that I can dispense with it for
once."

Lee had blushed under this frankness of compliment as if a decoration
had been pinned to his breast. "Thank you, Miss Dahlberg, you put me at
my ease. I've been out in the wilderness for so long that I've lost the
language of the social amenities. I really feel like another Rip van
Winkle. All this," he made a sweeping gesture, "is tremendously new and
surprising to me. There a