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272 Art so sure, my Holly? Tell me, do your women wear such jewels as that set upon my brow? and she pointed to the faint but lambent light which glowed about her forehead.

More, she began slowly to stroke her abundant hair, then her breast and body. Wherever her fingers passed the mystic light was born, until in that darkened room—for the dusk was gathering—she shimmered from head to foot like the water of a phosphorescent sea, a being glorious yet fearful to behold. Then she waved her hand, and, save for the gentle radiance on her brow, became as she had been.

Art so sure, my Holly? Ayesha repeated. Nay, shrink not; that flame will not burn thee. Mayhap thou didst but imagine it, as I have noted thou dost imagine many things; for surely no woman could clothe herself in light and live, nor has so much as the smell of fire passed upon my garments.

Then at length my patience was outworn, and I grew angry.

I am sure of nothing, Ayesha, I answered, except that thou wilt make us mad with all these tricks and changes. Say, art thou a spirit then?

We are all spirits, she said reflectively, and I, perhaps, more than some. Who can be certain?

Not I, I answered. Yet I implore, woman or spirit, tell me one thing. Tell me the truth. In the beginning what wast thou to Leo, and what was he to thee?

She looked at me very solemnly and answered—

Does my memory deceive me. Holly, or is it written in the first book of the Law of the Hebrews, which once I used to study, that the sons of Heaven came down to the daughters of men, and found that they were fair?

It is so written, I answered.

Then, Holly, might it not have chanced that once a daughter of Heaven came down to a man of Earth and