Excerpt: ... fashion, sarong and kabaya, both of purest white. The kabaya reached to midway between the knees and ankles. Her limbs were bare, except for doe-skin sandals. The girdle about her waist was made from the skins of spotted pit vipers. The handle of the dagger it held was studded with gems, rubies, turquoises, and emeralds. A huge ruby, mounted on a pin, caught the kabaya above her breasts; outside of this she wore 158 no jewelry. Her lustrous black hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Altogether a creature of ...
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Excerpt: ... fashion, sarong and kabaya, both of purest white. The kabaya reached to midway between the knees and ankles. Her limbs were bare, except for doe-skin sandals. The girdle about her waist was made from the skins of spotted pit vipers. The handle of the dagger it held was studded with gems, rubies, turquoises, and emeralds. A huge ruby, mounted on a pin, caught the kabaya above her breasts; outside of this she wore 158 no jewelry. Her lustrous black hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Altogether a creature of the jungle, she looked at him with a glance in which defiance was but thinly concealed. "What did you wish to see me about?" Peter Gross asked when he saw that she was awaiting his permission to speak. Something like a spark shot from the glowing coals of her eyes. The tragic intensity of those eyes stirred anew the feeling of pity in the resident's heart. "I am told, mynheer, that the governor withdrew his offer for my person at your request," she said coldly. The statement was a question, Peter Gross felt, though put in the form of a declaration. He scrutinized her face sharply, striving to divine her object. "That is true, juffrouw," he acknowledged. "Why did you do this, mynheer?" Peter Gross did not answer at once. The direct question astonished him. "Why do you ask, juffrouw?" he parried. Her finely chiseled head tilted back. Very royal she looked, very queenly, a Diana of the tropic jungle. "Because Koyala Bintang Burung asks no favors from you, Mynheer Gross. Nor from any white man." It was a declaration of war. Peter Gross realized it, and his face saddened. He had expected oppo 159 sition but not open defiance. He wondered what lay back of it. The Dyak blood in her, always treacherous, never acting without a purpose, was not frank without reason, he assured himself. "I had no intention of doing you a favor, juffrouw," he announced quietly. "What was your object, mynheer?" The words were hardly out of her mouth before she regretted...
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