Manchurian Books

The
dwarf laughed, bent in an absurd imitation of Larry's mocking courtesy
and started ahead of us to the house of the priestess. When he had
gone a little way on the orchid-walled path I whispered to O'Keefe:
"Larry, when you were falling off to sleep--did you think you saw
anything?"
"See anything!" he grinned. "Doc, sleep hit me like a Hun shell. I
thought they were pulling the gas on us. I--I had some intention of
bidding you tender farewells," he continued, half sheepishly. "I think
I did start 'em, didn't I?"
I nodded.
"But wait a minute--" he hesitated. "I had a queer sort of dream--"
"'What was it?" I asked eagerly,
"Well," he answered slowly, "I suppose it was because I'd been
thinking of--Golden Eyes. Anyway, I thought she came through the wall
and leaned over me--yes, and put one of those long white hands of hers
on my head--I couldn't raise my lids--but in some queer way I could
see her. Then it got real dreamish. Why do you ask?"
Rador turned back toward us,
"Later," I answered, "Not now.


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