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man's creative power, there of some loathsome reptile.
"'But look there,' said I to Teleny; 'there are also women.'
"'No,' replied he, 'women are never admitted to our revels.'
"'But look at that couple there. See that naked man with his hand under the skirts of the girl clasped against him.'
"'Both are men.'
"'What! also that one with the reddish-auburn hair and brilliant complexion? Why, is it not Viscount de Pontgrimaud's mistress?'
"'Yes, the Venus d'Ille, as she is generally called; and the Viscount is down there in a corner, but the Venus d'Ille is a man!'
"I stared astonished. What I had taken for a woman looked, indeed, like a beautiful bronze figure, as smooth and polished as a Japanese cast à cire perdue, with an enamelled Parisian cocotte's head.
"Whatever the sex of this strange being was, he or she had on a tight-fitting dress of a changing colour—gold in the light, dark green
