Fairy gauze and butterfly-satin, and moth-velvet and foamy lace and frosted silk, and that white samite — mystic, wonderful — which invites the hand to touch it with a timid caress, and the name whereof is only known to Woman; — and over all a hovering perfume — the perfume of youth, the odor of all that is sweet and feminine, the ambrosia that haunts the presence of Loveliness and clings to her robes — the frankincense of the Shulamitess!
This was the shadowy nook where the human butterfly nightly prepared to issue from her pallid chrysalis; the chamber where the pretty witch spun her web of magical gold.
"My thread is slim, my thread is fine,
But he must be
A stronger than thee
Who can break this thread of mine."
And the reader murmureth, perchance,
