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"Do you mean a reporter?"

"Naturally."

"No," she said very seriously, "I am not a reporter. What an odd idea!"

"Do you think it odd?"

"Why, yes. Do not many admirers of your works express their pleasure in them to you?"

He studied her lovely face coolly and in detail – the dainty arch of the questioning eyebrows, the sensitive curve of the mouth, the clear, sweet eyes. Could it be possible that such candour masked irony? Could all this be the very essence of the art of acting, concealing the most murderous sarcasm ever dreamed of by a terrified author?

And suddenly his face went red all over, and he understood that the essence of this young girl was a candour so utterly free of self-consciousness – a frankness so absolutely truthful, that the simplicity of her had been a miracle too exquisite for him to comprehend.

"You do like what I write!" he exclaimed.

Her blue eyes widened: "Of course I do," she said, amazed. "Didn't you understand me?"

"No," he said, cooling his burning face in the rising sea-wind. "I thought you were laughing at me."

"I'm sorry if I was stupid," she said.

"I was stupid."

"You!" She laughed a little.

The sinking sun peered through the palm forest behind them and flung a beam of blinding light at her.

"Am I interrupting your work, Mr. Smith? I mean, I know I am, but – "

"Please don't go away."

"Thank you… I have noticed what agreeable manners you Americans have in novels. Naturally you are even more kindly and polite in real life."

"Have you met many Americans?"

"No, only you. In the beginning I did not feel interested in Americans."

"Why?"

"The young men all seemed to resemble one another," she said frankly, "like Chinese. But now that I really know an American I am intensely interested."

"You notice no Mongolian monotony in me?" he inquired gravely.

"Oh, no – " She coloured; then discovering that he was laughing, she laughed, too, rather faintly.

"That was a joke, wasn't it?" she said.

"Yes, that was a joke."

"Because," she said, "there is no Mongolian uniformity about you. On the contrary, you remind me in every way of one of your own heroes."

"Oh, really now!" he protested; but she insisted with serious enthusiasm.

"You are the counterpart of the hero in this book," she repeated, resting one hand lightly on the volume under her elbow. "You wear white flannels, you are tall, well built, straight, with very regular features and a fasci – a smile," she corrected herself calmly, "which one naturally associates with your features."

"Also," she continued, "your voice is cultivated and modulated with just enough of the American accent to make it piquantly agreeable. And what you say is fasci – is well expressed and interesting. Therefore, as I have said, to me you resemble one of your own heroes."

There was enough hot colour in his face to make it boyishly bashful.

"And you appear to be as modest as one of your own heroes," she added, studying him. "That is truly delightful."

"But really, I am nothing like any of my heroes," he explained, terribly embarrassed.

"Why do you say that, Mr. Smith?"

"Because it's true. I don't even resemble 'em superficially."

She made a quick, graceful gesture: "Why do you say that, when here you are before me, the exact and exciting counterpart of the reckless and fasci – the reckless and interesting men you write about?"

He said nothing. She closed the parasol and considered him in silence for a moment or two. Then:

"And I have no doubt that you are capable of doing the very things that your heroes do so adroitly and so charmingly."

"What, for example?" he asked, reddening to his temples.

"Reconstructing armies, for instance."

"Filibustering?"

"Is that what it is called?"

"It's called that in the countries south of the United States."

"Well, would you not be capable of overturning a government and of reconstructing the army, Mr. Smith?"

"Capable?"

"Yes."

"Well," he said cautiously, "if it was the thing I wanted to do, perhaps I might have a try at it."

"I knew it," she exclaimed triumphantly.

"But," he explained, "I never desired to overturn any government."

"You probably have never seen any that you thought worth while overturning."

Her confident rejoinder perplexed him and he remained silent.