why his Demeter was placed upon a pedestal which, to others as well as
himself, seemed too high for the size of the statue.

Hermon replied that he had heard several make this criticism, but the
priests of the goddess refused to take it into account.

Here he hesitated, for, like a blow from an invisible hand, the thought
darted through his mind that perhaps, on the morrow, he would see himself
compelled before the whole world to cast aside the crown of fame which he
owed to the statue on the lofty pedestal. He did not have even the
remotest idea of continuing to deck himself with false renown if his
dread was realized; yet he doubtless imagined how this whole aristocratic
circle, with the Queen, Althea, and Proclus at its head, would turn with
reckless haste from the hapless man who had led them into such a shameful
error.

Yet what mattered it, even if these miserable people considered
themselves deceived and pointed the finger of scorn at him? Better
people would thereby be robbed of the right to accuse him of
faithlessness to himself. This thought darted through his heated brain
like a flash of lightning, and when, in spite of his silence, the
conversation was continued and Althea told the others that only Hermon's
blindness had prevented the creation of a work which could have been
confidently expected far to surpass the Demeter, since it seemed to have
been exactly suited to his special talent, he answered his beautiful
companion's remark curtly and absently.

She perceived this with annoyance and perplexity.

A woman who yearns for the regard of all men, and makes love a toy,