"
He repeated the last two lines into a rising note of exultation:
"His soul might burn, but her lips were his,
And the heart of his Romany chi."
The key suddenly turned in the lock, the door opened on the last words of
the refrain, and, without hesitation, Fleda stepped inside, closing the
door behind her.
"'Mi Duvel', but who would think--ah, did you hear me call then?" he
asked, rising from the plank couch where he had been sitting. He showed
his teeth in a smile which was meant to be a welcome, but it had an
involuntary malice.
"I heard you singing," she answered composedly, "but I do not come here
because I'm called."
"But I do," he rejoined. "You called me from over the seas, and I came. I
was in the Balkans; there was trouble--Servia, Montenegro, and Austria
were rattling the fire-irons again, and there was I as my father was
before me. But I heard you calling, and I came."
"You never heard me call, Jethro Fawe," she returned quietly. "My calling
of you is as silent as the singing of the stars, where you are concerned.
And the stars do not sing."
"But the stars do sing, and you call just the same," he responded with a
twist to his moustache, and posing against the wall. "I've heard the
stars sing.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116