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Nomare was dead, and no one knew where Graham was, and a king of collateral line was the ruler. "I told you he out-barbaricked her. Their dinner service was gold. Oh, what's the use in telling any more. He was only a boy. She was half-English, half-Polynesian, and a really and truly queen. They were flowers of their races. They were a pair of wonderful children. They lived a fairy tale.
They were dead at the time of the swim, and Nomare was queen herself. She was young. She was beautiful as any woman anywhere in the world may be beautiful. Thanks to her father's skin, she as not golden brown. She was tawny golden. But you've heard the story undoubtedly " He broke off with a look of question to Dick, who shook his head.
"She was a resplendent, golden-brown, or tan-golden half-caste, a Polynesian queen whose mother had been a queen before her, whose father was an Oxford man, an English gentleman, and a real scholar. Her name was Nomare. She was Queen of Huahoa. She was barbaric. He was young enough to out-barbaric her. There was nothing sordid in their marriage. He was no penniless adventurer.
"And I'll bet she can out-dive him." "There you lose," Dick answered. "I saw the rock he dived from at Huahoa. That was after his time, and after the death of Queen Nomare. He was only a youngster twenty-two; he had to be to do it. It was off the peak of the Pau-wi Rock one hundred and twenty-eight feet by triangulation.
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