in a wide
semicircle against the wattled walls, sat his black councilors, war
captains, and wives, their eyeballs and teeth agleam in the light cast
up by the embers. On the other side of the fire, the story teller
discoursed from between two warriors who leaned their heads pensively
against the upright shafts of their stabbing spears.

At the story teller's gestures--since gestures were needed to explain
these wonders--chains clanked on his wrists. The chains had been
fastened upon his arms and legs long ago, when he had begun to struggle
back to health, surviving wounds that even his hardy captors had
expected to prove fatal. When he fell silent, the councilors,
captains, and women patted their mouths to express their astonishment,
and the king declared:

"A good tale, Bangana. Do you know still another?"

So Lawrence Teck resumed his entertainment.

CHAPTER XXXI

The house in Westchester County was a pleasant surprise to Lilla. When
she had gotten rid of some furniture and bric-a-brac whose style or
color irritated her, she found herself in a sympathetic atmosphere,
surrounded, as always, by a harmonious and sophisticated richness.

In the wainscotted hall, which the stained glass of the bay-window on
the staircase landing dappled every day with a prismatic light, a
marble Renaissance mantelpiece supported a mounted knight of the
fifteenth century in stone, a champion who brandished his sword, and
raised his sightless eyes, in an invariable gesture of defiance.
Across the hall from him, a wide doorway opened on the living room,
illuminated from tall windows set with quaint faces in color, and
having at its far end a fine old Flemish tapestry of faded greens and
browns, behind a long table on which stood a bust of a Florentine
noblewoman in polychrome. High sprays of flowers sprang up, here and
there, above sofas and chairs upholstered in antiquated damask, and
seemed to bring into this spacious room walled with fluted wood the
gayety of the garden, which appeared, behind the leaded windowpanes, a
riot of golden marguerites, Chilean lilies, Chinese larkspur, phlox,
asters, and poppy mallows.

Next, beyond folding doors, stood David's study, a pianoforte between
the mullioned windows, a large carved center table covered with
portfolios and books, the paneled walls hung with framed sheets of
music written and autographed by famous composers.

Upstairs, however, in her own apartment, Lilla had prod