"I
never called to you," she said at last. "I did not know of your
existence, and, if I had, then I certainly shouldn't have called."
"The Gorgios have taken away your mind, or you'd understand," he replied
coolly. "Your soul calls and those that understand come. It isn't that
you know who hears or who is coming--till he comes."
"A call to all creation!" she answered disdainfully. "Do you think you
can impress me by saying things like that?"
"Why not? It's true. Wherever you went in all these years the memory of
you kept calling me, my little 'rinkne rakli'--my pretty little girl,
made mine by the River Starzke over in the Roumelian country."
"You heard what my father said--"
"I heard what the Duke Gabriel said--'Mi Duvel', I heard enough what he
said, and I felt enough what he did!"
He laughed, and began to roll a cigarette mechanically, keeping his eyes
fixed on her, however.
"You heard what my father said and what I said, and you will learn that
it is true, if you live long enough," she added meaningly.
A look of startled perception flashed into his eyes. "If I live long
enough, I'll turn you, my mad wife, into my Romany queen and the blessing
of my 'tan'."
"Don't mistake what I mean," she urged. "I shall never be ruler of the
Romanys.
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