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, soft light broken by curtains of lace; antiquated and elegant upholstery; a four-columned Creole bed, generously wide and lofty, its lace-fringed pillows embroidered with a rosy monogram; matting checkered in light colors; a bronze clock bearing the nude figure of Ariadne riding upon her loving panther; a glimmer of satin flung carelessly over fauteuils and sofas; a mysterious perfume of woman; a sense of some one absent, and a consciousness of wicked intrusion on the part of the writer — feelings intensified by the merciless ticking of the French clock: — this was Eleusis!

And the Mysteries?

Ah! the pretty mysteries; the dainty, soft, delicate, fragile, feminine mysteries!