nodded assent had she offered him a piece of charcoal for his immortal soul. “Then listen, man of my own people. A longing gnaws at my heart — this heart that beats under thy hand” — she took his hand with a swift movement and pressed it to her breast — ”a longing to go far from this place and these brutish people, to thy land and the land to which I belong.

“And now must I say why thy ship is here? It is because I have chosen thee, my friend, to free me from this detestable bondage.” She paused for a breath, leaning closer to him, then asked with a sudden grip of his hand at her breast: “Wilt take me out into thy world?”

Venner shifted uneasily beneath her blazing eyes. His soul was in torment with the touch of her; yet