ee.

Her eyes dropped first. She clutched the needle and muttered fiercely to
herself, "But when you've had the injection, it won't matter. I'll say,
'Love me!' and you'll love me, and 'Die!' and you'll die...."

Dworn stared burningly at the slim figure in black with the scarlet
hourglass on her bosom. He was alert again, and his mind was racing. To
all appearances he was lost--but something in the spider girl's manner
gave him an unreasonable hope.

He said abruptly, "So. Why didn't you use your poison while I was
stunned? That would have been easy."

She looked away. "You ask foolish questions, beetle. Naturally, I had to
prepare myself according to our customs. I had to paint my face and make
myself beautiful...."

He said inspiredly, "You _are_ beautiful."

Her reaction was surprising. She stood gazing raptly at him, lips
slightly parted the hypodermic forgotten in her hand. Dworn sensed that
had he been unbound, he would have had no trouble overpowering her.

She whispered, "_It's true, then!_"

And he realized forcibly how young she was--the painted lips made her
look much older, and the shadows--which he now saw were also painted
on--beneath her eyes. Only a girl, and if she had been one of his own
people he would have looked at her twice and more than twice....

But above their heads the great spider-machine's underparts gleamed
dully, straddling the sunken den. And the spell lasted only a moment.

The girl straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "Why am I
talking to a beetle? It's time--"

* * * * *

There was a clang of metal from somewhere in the room beyond. The girl's
face reflected sudden fright, beneath its painted mask. She spun round
and took two steps toward the inner door, but even as she did so, the
door swung wide, and dark figures crowded through it.

The girl cried, with terror and anger in her voice, "What do you mean,
coming into my Nest like this? You have no right--"

The interlopers were three in number, and all of them were women,
wearing black garments like the girl's, with the red spider symbol on
the breast. The one in the lead was elderly, her hair wisped with gray,
and her face was lined by years and passions; her eyes were flinty, her
mouth thin and cruel. The other two were younger; one was a strapping
blonde wench taller than Dworn, who moved with a powerful and formidable
grace; the other was short, soft-looking, with a chil