shine.
`What kind? A chimp?'
`No, it's a Sykes.'
His broad forehead wrinkled. 'I've never heard of one of those.'
`Oh, you've probably seen them in the zoo. It's sometimes called the Blue monkey, or Kima in Swahili.'
`Can you speak Swahili?'
Mr. Willard raised his eyes to heaven. ' Quiz time again! You've asked more questions than an encyclopaedia could answer this last four weeks!'
`I don't mind,' Sara said quickly. 'I can speak enough to get by on,' she added to Chipper. 'There's a young fawn back at the Station, too — a dik-dik. That's about the smallest in the world.'
`Gosh!' The boy's eyes were round. 'Can I see it —and the monkey?'
`Chipper, how many times do I have to tell you about begging for invitations like that?' broke in his mother hastily. 'Of course you can't.'
Sara-watched the glow start to die, and gave herself no time to consider. 'Oh, he can if he wants to. Why don't you all come over in the morning? You could easily get your guide to run you across.'
`Gosh,' said Chipper again. 'Can we really? Gosh, wait till I tell the kids at school about this! A real game station!'
`Are you sure it will be all right?' asked his father doubtfully. 'Won't your father mind?'
`My father isn't here at the moment,' she returned, already half regretting the impulse but seeing no fair way out of it. 'And of course it will be all right. If you like heights, Chipper, I can take you to a place where you'll be able to see all kinds of animals.'
`Hey,' chimed in Travis in mock indignation, 'what about me?'
`You too, if you want.' She smiled at him, pushing back a lock of hair which had fallen across her forehead, then felt the smile fasten itself on to her face as her gaze travelled over her shoulder and fell upon the man coming along the , terrace towards their little group.
Steve came to a stop at the outer edge of the circle of chairs, tall and brown in the bush shirt and shorts, his hat as always pushed to the back of his head. He swept 'a provoking scrutiny over her scantily-clad form, said pleasantly:
`I thought you might be ready to go back, but there's no rush if you want to wait for Temu to fetch you.' The smile he directed at Mrs. Willard was easy and casual. `Nice of you to take her under your wing for a bit. There isn't much company for a young girl out at Kambala.'
Sara clamped her teeth around the too ready retort. This wasn't the time to be getting his back up. She murmured introductions, explained Steve's position in relation to the Station, and heard Mr. Willard voice the anticipated response with a sinking feeling.
`Sara just suggested that we take a trip out in the morning to see her pets,' he said. 'Will that be all right with you?'
To do Steve credit he didn't even glance her way. `Good idea. Make a change for everybody.'
`Thanks. That's settled, then.' The other indicated a spare chair. 'How about joining us for a drink?
Expecting — or was it hoping? — for him to refuse, Sara was disconcerted when Steve accepted the invitation without hesitation and sat down in the proffered chair while their host summoned a waiter. Couldn't she even have one day free of him? she fumed, conveniently forgetting the three previous when she hadn't seen him until nightfall. He was doing it on purpose because he knew she didn't want him there, she decided, catching his mocking glance. She turned her back on him with deliberation and treated Travis to a smile which lit up his eyes in response.
`You were going to tell me what you do back home,' she said with blatant disregard for the truth.
With such encouragement she could hardly blame
Travis for taking her at her word and doing just that. He was training to be an architect, it turned out, and was totally fascinated by the whole field of learning in which he was immersed. Sara listened to him enthusiastically extolling the virtues of one style and period of building as opposed to another, learned something about the techniques employed by Wren and the
`What kind? A chimp?'
`No, it's a Sykes.'
His broad forehead wrinkled. 'I've never heard of one of those.'
`Oh, you've probably seen them in the zoo. It's sometimes called the Blue monkey, or Kima in Swahili.'
`Can you speak Swahili?'
Mr. Willard raised his eyes to heaven. ' Quiz time again! You've asked more questions than an encyclopaedia could answer this last four weeks!'
`I don't mind,' Sara said quickly. 'I can speak enough to get by on,' she added to Chipper. 'There's a young fawn back at the Station, too — a dik-dik. That's about the smallest in the world.'
`Gosh!' The boy's eyes were round. 'Can I see it —and the monkey?'
`Chipper, how many times do I have to tell you about begging for invitations like that?' broke in his mother hastily. 'Of course you can't.'
Sara-watched the glow start to die, and gave herself no time to consider. 'Oh, he can if he wants to. Why don't you all come over in the morning? You could easily get your guide to run you across.'
`Gosh,' said Chipper again. 'Can we really? Gosh, wait till I tell the kids at school about this! A real game station!'
`Are you sure it will be all right?' asked his father doubtfully. 'Won't your father mind?'
`My father isn't here at the moment,' she returned, already half regretting the impulse but seeing no fair way out of it. 'And of course it will be all right. If you like heights, Chipper, I can take you to a place where you'll be able to see all kinds of animals.'
`Hey,' chimed in Travis in mock indignation, 'what about me?'
`You too, if you want.' She smiled at him, pushing back a lock of hair which had fallen across her forehead, then felt the smile fasten itself on to her face as her gaze travelled over her shoulder and fell upon the man coming along the , terrace towards their little group.
Steve came to a stop at the outer edge of the circle of chairs, tall and brown in the bush shirt and shorts, his hat as always pushed to the back of his head. He swept 'a provoking scrutiny over her scantily-clad form, said pleasantly:
`I thought you might be ready to go back, but there's no rush if you want to wait for Temu to fetch you.' The smile he directed at Mrs. Willard was easy and casual. `Nice of you to take her under your wing for a bit. There isn't much company for a young girl out at Kambala.'
Sara clamped her teeth around the too ready retort. This wasn't the time to be getting his back up. She murmured introductions, explained Steve's position in relation to the Station, and heard Mr. Willard voice the anticipated response with a sinking feeling.
`Sara just suggested that we take a trip out in the morning to see her pets,' he said. 'Will that be all right with you?'
To do Steve credit he didn't even glance her way. `Good idea. Make a change for everybody.'
`Thanks. That's settled, then.' The other indicated a spare chair. 'How about joining us for a drink?
Expecting — or was it hoping? — for him to refuse, Sara was disconcerted when Steve accepted the invitation without hesitation and sat down in the proffered chair while their host summoned a waiter. Couldn't she even have one day free of him? she fumed, conveniently forgetting the three previous when she hadn't seen him until nightfall. He was doing it on purpose because he knew she didn't want him there, she decided, catching his mocking glance. She turned her back on him with deliberation and treated Travis to a smile which lit up his eyes in response.
`You were going to tell me what you do back home,' she said with blatant disregard for the truth.
With such encouragement she could hardly blame
Travis for taking her at her word and doing just that. He was training to be an architect, it turned out, and was totally fascinated by the whole field of learning in which he was immersed. Sara listened to him enthusiastically extolling the virtues of one style and period of building as opposed to another, learned something about the techniques employed by Wren and the
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