Some time he might have seen the kind of violet-blue that was in her eyes, but he could not remember it.

She was lost--utterly lost at this far-end of the earth.

She was no more a part of it than a crepe de chine ball dress or a bit of rose china.

And there she was, sitting opposite him, a bewitching mystery for him to solve.

And she WANTED to be solved! He could see it in her eyes, and in the little beating throb at her throat.