were grouped about a sort of throne of white rugs,
covered with a gigantic lion's skin, on which, half raised on one
elbow, lay Antinea.

Antinea! Whenever I saw her after that, I wondered if I had really
looked at her before, so much more beautiful did I find her. More
beautiful? Inadequate word. Inadequate language! But is it really the
fault of the language or of those who abuse the word?

One could not stand before her without recalling the woman for whom
Ephractoeus overcame Atlas, of her for whom Sapor usurped the scepter
of Ozymandias, for whom Mamylos subjugated Susa and Tentyris, for whom
Antony fled....

_O tremblant coeur humain, si jamais tu vibras
C'est dans l'etreinte altiere et chaude de ses bras_.

An Egyptian _klaft_ fell over her abundant blue-black curls. Its two
points of heavy, gold-embroidered cloth extended to her slim hips. The
golden serpent, emerald-eyed, was clasped about her little round,
determined forehead, darting its double tongue of rubies over her
head.

She wore a tunic of black chiffon shot with gold, very light, very
full, slightly gathered in by a white muslin scarf embroidered with
iris in black pearls.

That was Antinea's costume. But what was she beneath all this? A slim
young girl, with long green eyes and the slender profile of a hawk. A
more intense Adonis. A child queen of Sheba, but with a look, a smile,
such as no Oriental ever had. A miracle of irony and freedom.

I did not see her body. Indeed I should not have thought of looking at
it, had I had the strength. And that, perhaps, was the most
extraordinary thing about that first impression. In that unforgettable
moment nothing would have seemed to me more horribly sacrilegious than
to think of the fifty victims in the red marble hall, of the fifty
young men who had held that slender body in their arms.

She was still laughing at me.

"King Hiram," she called.

I turned and saw my enemy.

On the capital of one of the columns, twenty feet above the floor, a
splendid leopard was crouched. He still looked surly from the blow I
had dealt him.

"King Hiram," Antinea repeated. "Come here."

The beast relaxed like a spring released. He fawned at his mistress's
feet. I saw his red tongue licking her bare little ankles.

"Ask the gentleman's pardon," she said.

The leopard looked at me spitefully. The yellow skin of his muzzle
puckered about his black moustache.

"Fftt," he grumbled like a great cat.