"We will play at sand-pictures.

You know that game, I expect.

One draws and the other has to guess what it's meant for.

I shall look out for you, then.

Good-bye!" She waved a careless hand, and he, still smiling, saluted again and hastened after his men.
She was certainly unconventional, this English girl, quite superbly so.
She was also sublimely and completely irresistible.
Did she guess of the power that was hers as she turned back into the little garden?
Did some dim suggestion of a spell yet dormant present itself as she stood thus on the threshold of her woman's kingdom?
Possibly, for her face was thoughtful, and remained so for quite ten seconds after her new playmate's departure.
At the end of the ten seconds she kissed Cinders, with the remark, "Chappie, that little Frenchman is a trump.