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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"The Golden Scorpion"


"No," he said; "I won't. I was a brute, Miska. Miska means 'musk',
surely?"
"Yes." She glanced up at him timidly. "Do you think it a pretty name?"
"Very," he said, laughing.
Underlying the Western veneer was the fascinating naivete of the
Eastern woman, and Miska had all the suave grace, too, which belongs
to the women of the Orient, so that many admiring glances followed
her charming figure as she crossed the room to a vacant table.
"Now," said Stuart, when he had given an order to the waiter, "what
do you want to tell me? Whatever it may be, I am all anxiety to hear
it. I promise that I will only act upon anything you may tell me in
the event of my life, or that of another, being palpably endangered
by my silence."
"Very well. I want to tell you," replied Miska, "why I stay with
Fo-Hi."
"Who is Fo-Hi?"
"I do not know!"
"What!" said Stuart. "I am afraid I don't understand you."
"If I speak in French will you be able to follow what I say?"
"Certainly. Are you more at ease with French?"
"Yes," replied Miska, beginning to speak in the latter language. "My
mother was French, you see, and although I can speak in English
fairly well I cannot yet _think_ in English. Do you understand?
"Perfectly. So perhaps you will now explain to whom you refer when
you speak of Fo-Hi."
Miska glanced apprehensively around her, bending further forward over
the table.
"Let me tell you from the beginning," she said in a low voice, "and
then you will understand.


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