urns with their carved bas-reliefs of naked dancing boys;—the dead fountain choked with water-lilies;— the monstrous flowers that opened their hearts to the moon. And she!—the sinuous outlines of that body of Corinthian bronze unconcealed by the feathery lightness of the white robe she wore;—the Creole eyes;—the pouting and passionate mouth;—and that cruel, sphinx-smile, that smile of Egypt, eternally pitiless, eternally mystical,—the smile she wore when I flung myself like a worm before her to kiss her feet, and vainly shrieked to her to trample upon me, to spit upon me! And after my fierce moment of vengeance, the smile of Egypt still remained upon her dark face, as though moulded in everlasting bronze.
*
* *
There was no rustle among the lianas, no stir among the dead leaves; yet she stood again be- fore me! My heart seemed to cease its beatings; —a chill as of those nights in which I had sailed Antarctic seas passed over me! Robed in white as in the buried years, with lights like fireflies in her hair, and the same dark, elfish smile!
