the elevation of the andiron."

Again the man hesitated, as for an accurate method of expression.

"In the flesh, Excellency, there was color that would not appear
in the image. The hair was yellow, and the eyes were blue; and
against the black marble of the fireplace the body was
conspicuously white. But in every other aspect of her,
Excellency, the woman was on the hearth in the flesh as she is in
the clutch of the savage male figure in the image.

"There is no dress or ornament, as you will recall, Excellency.
Not even an ear-jewel or an anklet, as though the graver of the
image felt that the inherent beauty of his figure could take
nothing from these ostentations. The woman's heavy yellow hair
was wound around her head, as in the image. She shivered a
little, faintly, like a naked child in an unaccustomed draught of
air, although she stood on the warm marble hearth and within the
red glow of the fire.

"The voice from the male figure of the image, which I had brought
the Master, and which stood as the andiron, now so immensely
enlarged, was beginning again to speak. The thin metallic sounds
seemed to splinter against the dense silence, as it went forward
in the ritual prescribed.

"But the Master had already decided; he stood now on the great
marble hearth with his papers crushed together. And as I looked
on, through the crevice under the doorsill, he put out his free
hand and with his finger touched the woman gently. The flesh