THE SWEET-SCENTED NAME
The boy nodded, and then in a loud melodious voice gave answer:
"Aristomakh! You always were clever at verbal exercises, and indeed as clever in actions demanding daring and caution. If I said that you left me in a moment of mortal danger it is not a reproach. And I don't understand why you speak of your honour. The thing purposed by us was difficult and dangerous, but why do you quibble about it. Who is here that you think you can deceive by pretending ignorance of what happened this morning before sunrise and of the promise you had given me?"
The electric light became dim. The ceiling seemed dark and high. There was the scent of a herb in the room—but what herb? Its forgotten name had one time sounded sweetly on his ear. On the wings of the scent a cool air seemed wafted into the room. Gurof stood up and cried out:
"What thing did we purpose? I deny nothing, dear boy, but I simply don't know of what you are speaking. I don't remember."
It seemed to Gurof that the child was at one and the same time both looking at him and not looking at him. Though the boy's eyes were directed towards him they seemed
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