e her.

There, standing in a beam of golden light that, passing through the
smoke-hole, pierced the soft gloom of the hut, stood the most beautiful
creature that I had ever seen--that is, if it be admitted that a person
who is black, or rather copper-coloured, can be beautiful.

She was a little above the medium height, not more, with a figure that,
so far as I am a judge of such matters, was absolutely perfect--that of
a Greek statue indeed. On this point I had an opportunity of forming an
opinion, since, except for her little bead apron and a single string
of large blue beads about her throat, her costume was--well, that of
a Greek statue. Her features showed no trace of the negro type; on the
contrary, they were singularly well cut, the nose being straight and
fine and the pouting mouth that just showed the ivory teeth between,
very small. Then the eyes, large, dark and liquid, like those of a
buck, set beneath a smooth, broad forehead on which the curling, but not
woolly, hair grew low. This hair, by the way, was not dressed up in any
of the eccentric native fashions, but simply parted in the middle and
tied in a big knot over the nape of the neck, the little ears peeping
out through its tresses. The hands, like the feet, were very small and
delicate, and the curves of the bust soft and full without being coarse,
or even showing the promise of coarseness.

A lovely woman, truly; and yet there was something not quite pleasing
about that beautiful face; something, notwithstanding its childlike
outline, which reminded me of a flower breaking into bloom, that one
does not associate with youth and innocence. I tried to analyse what
this might be, and came to the conclusion that without being hard, it
was too clever and, in a sense, too reflective. I felt even then that
the brain within the shapely head was keen and bright as polished steel;
that this woman was one made to rule, not to be man's toy, or even his
loving companion, but to use him for her ends.

She dropped her chin till it hid the little, dimple-like depression
below her throat, which was one of her charms, and began not to look at,
but to study me, seeing which I shut my eyes tight and waited. Evidently
she thought that I was still in my swoon, for now she spoke to herself
in a low voice that was soft and sweet as honey.

"A small man," she said; "Saduko would make two of him, and the
other"--who was he, I wondered--"three. His hair, too, is ugly; he cu