memory of the look of hate that he had seen in the girl’s eyes at the instant that he went down before her missile as he battled with Korth, for it was not even tinged with friendliness.
And so the girl’s manner was equally distant when she replied; in fact, it was even colder, for it was fraught with bitterness.
“Thandar owed nothing to Nadara," she said, "and though it matters not at all, it is only fair to say that the stone that struck you as you battled in the glade was intended for Korth.”
Waldo’s face brightened. A load that he had not realized lay there was lifted from his heart.
“You did not want to hurt me, then?” he cried.
“Why should I want to hurt you?” returned the girl.
“I thought”—and here Waldo spoiled the fair start they had made at a reconciliation—“I thought,” he said, “that you were angry because I ran away from you after we had come to your village that time, months ago.”
Nadara’s head went high and she laughed aloud.
“I angry? I was surprised that you did not come to the village, but after an hour I had forgotten the matter—it was with difficulty that I recognized you when I next saw you, so utterly had the occurrence departed from my thoughts.”
Waldo wondered why he should feel such
