That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. She decided that she would try to push whatever resolve he had in the car to see where it would lead. ’ She saw suspicion darken his gaze. The one nearest to her, which must lead to the library.
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