She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created.
The picture of her flashed across the doctor's vision magically.
The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain.
"I never told anybody," she went on.

"An audience might have frightened the birds.

Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days." "Didn't the natives have a name for you ?" She blushed.

"It was silly." "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted.

Never was there another girl like this one.