.. She coloured deeply.

"'You have stored the bronze statue in some other part of the house,' I
said at a venture.

"She looked at me, as I thought, a little uneasily.

"'You aren't afraid of that old statue?' she exclaimed. 'We might at
least light up the candles,' she added, as I made no reply; and she
turned and put a burning taper to the candelabra.

"As Margot spoke the candles flared up, and then, with a sudden start of
unexplained dismay, I saw in a corner by the bed stood the bronze
figure.

"As I looked at it I felt the horror of nightmare seize me, for it bore
a striking resemblance to Ombos. A dreadful exuberance and vitality
seemed to shine through the thing, an exuberance wholly malign, a
vitality that foamed and frothed with unimaginable evil. Evil beamed
from the deep cavernous eyes; it leered in the demon-like mouth....
Ugh!--

"Margot walked up to me and patted my shoulder. 'Well, and are you
really afraid of that thing,' she said, pointing to the statue.

"'But, don't you see?' said I. 'It's scarcely the face of a bronze
figure. It's almost human. No; it isn't even human. It's the face of
some devil.' Margot laughed.

"'Yes: he isn't very cheerful,' she said. 'Scarcely a boudoir ornament,
eh? I'll throw a blanket over Albertus if you like.'

"'I really wish you would,' I said, 'I don't care so long as he can't
grin at me.'

"Somehow, with the bronze figure covered up, I felt much lighter and
happier.

"I think that Margot--that Margot must have been rather overstrained
after the struggle with that brute. She seemed to be all nerves--upset:
insisted in putting her little white hand on mine in a very solemn way,
and thanking me for all sorts of imaginary favours.... Got 'a wheeze'
into her head, among other rot, that I had saved her life.

"'Look here,' I said. 'I wish you wouldn't talk so jolly silly. I'm not
a bit unselfish, I'm a novelist. There was nothin' doin' with my
crowd--regiment I mean--and so I came here to look for "copy." That was
why I persisted in seeing you home here. It was all just a matter of
"copy" to me--at the start.' I paused, and Margot turned her tourmaline
eyes full on me. Had you asked me after my first visit to old Ombos what
Margot's eyes were like I could not have told you the colour to save my
life. If I had been forced to weigh out a guess I might have said they
were a shade of grey. Grey? Name of a little dog! Yes, I should have
called 'em grey, but that