The thought crossed his mind
that presently she would look at him and move away. When she did not,
his eyes kept coming back to her with the involuntary curiosity of
the casual male concerning the strange female. She was of medium
height, well-formed, dressed in a well-tailored gray suit. Under the
edges of a black velvet turban her hair showed glossy brown in a
smooth roll. She had one elbow propped on the rail and her chin
nestled in the palm. Hollister could see a clean-cut profile, the
symmetrical outline of her nose, one delicately colored cheek above
the gloved hand and a neckpiece of dark fur.
He wondered what she was so intent upon for so long, leaning immobile
against that wooden guard. He continued to watch her. Would she
presently bestow a cursory glance upon him and withdraw to some other
part of the ship? Hollister waited for that with moody expectation. He
found himself wishing to hear her voice, to speak to her, to have her
talk to him. But he did not expect any such concession to a whimsical
desire.
Nevertheless the unexpected presently occurred.
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