Creative Books

He was still
fighting his chimeras, it seemed, and fighting them successfully. As he
spoke, Halcyone, behind the teapot, thrilled with a kind of worship. To
be strong and young and manful, and to combat modern dragons, appeared
to her to be a god-like task.
In the midst of a heated argument she rose to slip away. Her comings and
goings were so natural to the Professor that he was unaware that she was
leaving the room until John Derringham broke off in the middle of a
sentence, to rise and open the door for her.
"Good-by," she said. "Aunt Roberta is not very well to-day, so I must
not be late. Good night, Cheiron"--and she went out and closed the door.
"But it is quite dark!" exclaimed John Derringham. "Is there a servant
waiting? She can't go all alone!"
The Professor leaned back in his chair.
"Don't disturb yourself," he said. "Halcyone is accustomed to the
twilight. It is a strange night-creature--leave it alone."
John Derringham sat down again.
"She is not nearly so attractive-looking as she used to be. If I
remember, she was rather a weirdly pretty child.


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