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"Our luggage will be sent over shortly," he said. "If you're tired, we'll say good-night."
So she rose and the three men came to make their adieux and pay their compliments and devoirs. Then, with a smile that seemed almost happy, she went into her own apartment on her husband's arm.
Cleves and his wife had connecting bedrooms and a sitting-room between.
Here they paused for a moment before the always formal ceremony of leave-taking at night. There were roses on the centre table. Tressa dropped one hand on the table and bent over the flowers.
"They seem so friendly," she said under her breath.
He thought she meant that she found even in flowers a refuge from the solitude of a loveless marriage.
He said quietly: "I think you will find the world very friendly, if you wish." But she shook her head, looking at the roses.
Finally he said good-night and she extended her hand, and he took it formally.
Then their hands fell away. Tressa turned and went toward her bedroom.
At the door she stopped, turned slowly.
"What shall I do about Yulun?" she asked.
"What is there to do? Yulun is in China."
"Yes, her body is."
"Do you mean that the rest of her--whatever it is--could come here?"
"Why, of course."
"So that Benton could see her?"
"Yes."
"Could he see her just as she is? Her face and figure--clothes and everything?"
"Yes."
"Would she seem real or like a ghost--spirit--whatever you choose to call such things?"
Tressa smiled. "She'd be exactly as real as you or I, Victor. She'd seem like anybody else."
"That's astonis.h.i.+ng," he muttered. "Could Benton hear her speak?"
"Certainly."
"Talk to her?"
Tressa laughed: "Of course. If Yulun should _make the effort_ she could leave her body as easily as she undresses herself. It is no more difficult to divest one's self of one's body than it is to put off one garment and put on another.... And, somehow, I think Yulun will do it to-night."
"Come _here_?"
"It would be like her." Tressa laughed. "Isn't it odd that she should have become so enamoured of Mr. Benton--just seeing him there in the moonlight that night at Orchid Lodge?"
For a moment the smile curved her lips, then the shadow fell again across her eyes, veiling them in that strange and lovely way which Cleves knew so well; and he looked into her impenetrable eyes in troubled silence.
"Victor," she said in a low voice, "were you afraid to tell me that your man had been murdered?"
After a moment: "You always know everything," he said unsteadily. "When did you learn it?"
"Just before Mr. Recklow told you."
"How did you learn it, Tressa?"
"I looked into our apartment."
"When?"
"While you were telephoning."
"You mean you looked into our rooms from _here_?"
"Yes, clairvoyantly."
"What did you see?"
"The Iaglamichi!" she said with a shudder. "Kai! The Toug of Djamouk is anointed at last!"
"Is that the beast of a Mongol who did this murder?"
"Djamouk and Prince Sanang planned it," she said, trembling a little.
"But that butchery was Yaddin's work, I think. Kai! The work of Yaddined-Din, Tougtchi to Djamouk the Fox!"
They stood confronting each other, the length of the sitting-room between them. And after the silence had lasted a full minute Cleves reddened and said: "I am going to sleep on the couch at the foot of your bed, Tressa."
His young wife reddened too.
He said: "This affair has thoroughly scared me. I can't let you sleep out of my sight."
"I am quite safe. And you would have an uncomfortable night," she murmured.
"Do you mind if I sleep on the couch, Tressa?"
"No."
"Will you call me when you are ready?"
"Yes."
She went into her bedroom and closed the door.
When he was ready he slipped a pistol into the pocket of his dressing-gown, belted it over his pyjamas, and walked into the sitting-room. His wife called him presently, and he went in. Her night-lamp was burning and she extended her hand to extinguish it.