"Why, Natalie, your clothes seem to have all dried off already; mine are
soaked through," he exclaimed in surprise. "What necromancy is this?"
She laughed, a faint tinge of mockery in the sound.
"No mystery whatever; only a difference in texture, I imagine. This light
stuff dries quickly, exposed to the air. Did you think you had hold of
the wrong girl?"
The tone of her voice stung slightly, causing him to make a sober answer.
"That would, of course, be improbable, but I have been so completely
deceived, even by daylight, that I dare not affirm that it would prove
impossible. Your counterfeit is certainly a wizard."
"She must be. But as she is miles away from here, you might let the
suspicion rest. Is this where we go down?"
She led the way, the action awakening no question in his mind. If he
thought at all about her thus assuming the initiative, the suspicion was
dismissed with the idea that probably her eyes were more keen to discover
the best path. In this she was certainly successful, and he contented
himself by following her closely. The night was already dark, the way
irregular and confusing. She was but a dim shadow, advancing
confidently, and now and then in their descent, he reached out and
touched her to make sure of her presence. This action seemed to irritate
for she turned once, and objected shortly.
"Oh, don't do that, please; it startles me. My nerves are all on edge.
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