re if I see and hear--for it seem
you not seeing nor hearing ME. I watch and I see. Is it her so soft
brown hair? That color of hair is so more prettier than ugly black!
Is it her English eyes? Eyes that born in the dark forests of Burma so
hideous and so like the eyes of the apes! Is it her white skin and her
red cheeks? A brown skin--though someone, there was, that say it is
satin of heaven--is so tiresome; when no more it is a new toy it does
not interest"...

"Really," muttered Gianapolis, uneasily, "I think you must be mad! I
don't know what you are talking about."

"LIAR!"

One lithe step forward the Eurasian sprang, and, at the word, brought
down the fan with all her strength across Gianapolis' eyes!

He staggered away from her, uttering a hoarse cry and instinctively
raising his arms to guard himself from further attack; but the girl
stood poised again, her hand upon her hip; and swinging her right toe to
and fro. Gianapolis, applying his handkerchief to his eyes, squinted at
her furiously.

"Liar!" she repeated, and her voice had something of a soothing whisper.
"I say to you, be so careful that you go not too far--with me! I do what
I do, not because I am a poor fool"...

"It's funny," declared Gianapolis, an emotional catch in his
voice--"it's damn funny for you--for YOU--to adopt these airs with me!
Why, you went to Olaf van"...

"Stop!" cried the girl furiously, and sprang at him panther-like so that
he fell back again in confusion, stumbled and collapsed upon a divan,
with upraised, warding arms. "You Greek rat! you skinny Greek rat! Be
careful what you think to say to me--to ME! to ME! Olaf van Noord--the
poor, white-faced corpse-man! He is only one of Said's mummies! Be
careful what you think to say to me... Oh! be careful--be very careful!
It is dangerous of any friend of--MR. KING"...

Gianapolis glanced at her furtively.

"It is dangerous of anyone in a house of--MR. KING to think to make
attachments,"--she hissed the words beneath her breath--"outside of
ourselves. MR. KING would not be glad to hear of it... I do not like to
tell it to MR. KING"...

Gianapolis rose to his feet, unsteadily, and stretched out his arms in
supplication.

"Mahara!" he said, "don't treat me like this! dear little Mahara! what
have I done to you? Tell me!--only tell me!"

"Shall I tell it in English?" asked the Eurasian softly. Her eyes now
were nearly closed; "or does it worry you that I speak so ugly"...