ong, tune up,
little woman!"

They went together down the gangway stairs, he dressed in an ordinary
suit of grey, English tweed, with a golf cap on the back of his head,
and she in the last and daintiest of the costumes which the art of Paris
and London and New York had produced before the _Astronef_ soared up
from far-off Washington.

The moment that she set foot on the golden-yellow sward she was
surrounded by a swarm of the winged, and yet strangely human creatures.
Those nearest to her came and touched her hands and face, and stroked
the folds of her dress. Others looked into her violet-blue eyes, and
others put out their queer little hands and stroked her hair.

This and her clothing seemed to be the most wonderful experience for
them, saving always the fact that she had only two arms and no wings.
Redgrave kept close beside her until he was satisfied that these
exquisite inhabitants of the new-found fairyland were innocent of any
intention of harm, and when he saw two of the winged daughters of the
Love-Star put up their hands and touch the thick coils of her hair, he
said:

"Take those pins and things out and let it down. They seem to think that
your hair's part of your head. It's the first chance you've had to work
a miracle, so you may as well do it. Show them the most beautiful thing
they've ever seen."

"What babies you men can be when you get sentimental!" laughed Zaidie,
as she put her hands up to her head. "How do you know that this may not
be ugly in their eyes?"

"Quite impossible!" he replied. "They're a great deal too pretty
themselves to think _you_ ugly. Let it down!"

While he was speaking Zaidie had taken off a Spanish mantilla which she
had thrown over her head as she came out, and which the ladies of Venus
seemed to think was part of her hair. Then she took out the comb and one
or two hairpins which kept the coils in position, deftly caught the
ends, and then, after a few rapid movements of her fingers, she shook
her head, and the wondering crowd about her saw, what seemed to them a
shimmering veil, half gold, half silver, in the soft reflected light
from the cloud-veil, fall down from her head over her shoulders.

They crowded still more closely round her, but so quietly and so gently
that she felt nothing more than the touch of wondering hands on her
arms, and dress, and hair. As Redgrave said afterwards, he was
"absolutely out of it." They seemed to imagine him to be a kind of
uncou