It is only behind human eyes that one may recognize the murder-purpose based on argument.
"I see her," I said. "I suspect she's got a pistol, and—"
I had not known until that moment that the short hair was standing up the back of my head, but I felt it go down with a creepy cold chill as I spoke. Then once more it rose. Knowing she was seen and recognized, Maga got to her feet and stood on the larger of the two stones, looking down on us. Her hands were on her hips, and I could see no weapon, but her lips moved in voiceless imprecation.
"Are you Maga Jhaere?" asked Gloria, first of us all to recover some measure of self-command.
Maga nodded. She was barefooted, clothed only in bodice and leather jacket and a rather short ochre-colored skirt that blew in the gaining wind and showed the outline of her lithe young figure. Her long black hair billowed and galloped in the wind behind her.
"I am Maga Jhaere," she said slowly, addressing Gloria. "Who are you?"
"My name is Gloria Vanderman."
"And that man beside you—who is he?"
Gloria did not answer. Will looked more embarrassed than the devil caught in daylight, and Fred recovered his mental equilibrium sufficiently to chuckle.
"Is he your 'usband?"
"No."
"Then what you want with 'im?"
No one said a word. Only, Fred made a movement with his hand behind him that Maga noticed and spurned with a toss of her chin.
"You coming to Zeitoon?"
Gloria nodded. Glancing over toward Kagig I saw
