I do not accuse you of any petty heresy,
such as doubting that the eclipse of our moon is for the purpose of
hiding the angels at their baths. I accuse you of the _Heresis Maximus_,
that you doubt the virgin father!"

"Why, how absurd!" remarked Gud naively. "There never was one to doubt."

No sooner were these words out of the mouth of Gud than the six
characters in search of a heretic pounced in frenzied joy upon him.
Binding him with chains of iron and fetters of brass, they dragged him
forth to the heretical pyre, to which the Vest of the Silver Horseshoes
applied the torch, while the presses hummed with the news of the
burning.

But as the flames licked hot about the feet of Gud, he slipped his
chains; and blazing with ethereal fire that dulled the smoke of
intolerance and the smudge of inquisition, Gud, the martyr, arose in a
flame of splendor. And using the stars as stepping stones, he strode
across the heavens to the place where he was going--for he had an
assignation there.

Chapter XLVIII

She came toward Gud with an arch smile. In fact, her smile was very
arch. Her brows were also arched. But her nose was as straight as the
road to Hell and her lashes were curved as the new-born moon. They were
also long and drooping. Her eyes were opalescent, her complexion
translucent, her forehead high, and her cheekbones low. She had a
cupid's bow mouth and her lips were very ruby. Her teeth were like
genuine pearls and her chin was dimpled and single.

When she spoke to Gud her voice was as musical as the song the silkworms
sing.

And when Gud spoke to her, she sighed in ecstasy of lavender-scented
flattery, and her eyelids drooped like languid draperies across a
seacoal fire.

"I have brought my book," she murmeled as she reached into her corsage
and drew forth a manuscript bound with skins of humming birds. "May I
read it to you? It's title is 'Art and Wealth and Anatomy Sesame.'"

She opened the book at random--which is the proper way to open any
non-fiction book written by a woman--and her voice warbled as she read:

"The lambent enoughness of atomless ultraness vegetateth for eons in
ultramarine slime and thence crawleth hencely, attaining esoteric power
by the sublimation of the egomania into splenetic colorature which by
chemic vortices electrifying plasmic erotifcanaticism ascends to organic
indefinability and multitudinous indefinity, and soareth toward the
inordinate fulfillment of superco