Manchurian Books

A flush stole up through the translucent skin. The blue eyes softened
and she waved us toward the cushions. Black-haired maids stole in,
placing before us the fruits, the little loaves and a steaming drink
somewhat the colour and odor of chocolate. I was conscious of
outrageous hunger.
"What are you named, strangers?" she asked.
"This man is named Goodwin," said O'Keefe. "As for me, call me
Larry."
"Nothing like getting acquainted quick," he said to me--but kept his
eyes upon Yolara as though he were voicing another honeyed phrase. And
so she took it, for: "You must teach me your tongue," she murmured.
"Then shall I have two words where now I have one to tell you of your
loveliness," he answered.
"And also that'll take time," he spoke to me. "Essential occupation
out of which we can't be drafted to make these fun-loving folk any
Roman holiday. Get me!"
"Larree," mused Yolara. "I like the sound. It is sweet--" and indeed
it was as she spoke it.
"And what is your land named, Larree?" she continued.


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