38
THE SURAKARTA
dance of dark hair, busily writing at a desk. She occupied in the rather large room the only chair, though marks upon the heavy hotel carpet here and there showed where other chairs just now had stood. He reddened with annoyance at this obvious attempt to put him at a disadvantage. He crossed, pushed open determinedly the door of an inner room, seized a chair and set it near the desk.
Then for the first time she looked up.
Her gray-blue eyes maliciously and audaciously flashed at him and the blood glowed pink under her clear white skin. "Why, she is beautiful!" he thought in amazement, for her published pictures had shown her no more than pretty. Startled at finding her so different from what he had expected, he re-
