manner,--they glided to and fro with an indolent floating ease
that was indescribably bewitching,--the more so as many of them
were endowed with exquisite beauty of form and feature,--beauty
greatly enhanced by the artistic simplicity of their costume.

This was composed of a straight clinging gown, slightly gathered
at the throat, and bound about the waist with a twisted girdle of
silver, gold, and, in some cases, jewels,--their arms, like those
of the men, were bare, and their small, delicate feet were
protected by sandals fastened with crossed bands of ribbon
coquettishly knotted. The arrangement of their hair was evidently
a matter of personal taste, and not the slavish copying of any set
fashion,--some allowed it to hang in loosely flowing abundance
over their shoulders,--others had it closely braided, or coiled
carelessly in a thick soft mass at the top of the head,--but all
without exception wore white veils,--veils, long, transparent, and
filmy as gossamer, which they flung back or draped about them at
their pleasure ... and presently, after watching several of these
fairy creatures pass by and listening to their low laughter and
dulcet speech, a sudden memory leaped into Alwyn's confused
brain,--an old, old memory that seemed to have lain hidden among
his thoughts for centuries,--the memory of a story called "LAMIA"
told in verse as delicious as music aptly played. Who wrote the
story? ... He could not tell,--but he recollected that it was
about a snake in the guise of a beautiful woman. And these women
in this strange city looked as if they also had a snake-like
origin,--there was something so soft and lithe and undulating
about their movements and gestures. Weary of walking, distracted
by the ever-increasing clamor, and feeling lost among the crowd,
he at last perceived a wide and splendid square, surrounded wild