CHAPTER XI

Dimny Parcot sat upright, oblivious of her audience and putting her hair back with gentle sweeping gestures. She was perfecting a noble yawn. Noll had never before admired the act or thought it beautiful. Always before it had meant a losing battle with sleep. Now it was the last struggle of sleep. It was the twilight before the daybreak. Dimny had come back to life. And nothing proved it more vividly than the fact that, as her eyes made out that she was not alone, one of her hands dropped quickly before her lips to…