Firs and rugs carpeted the floor. Below him, in the center of the chamber, was an altar, low and square, from which a flower of flame blossomed. Gleaming with cold silver radiance, it cast flickering gleams over the two huge beasts that stood beside the altar—two leopards, stretched in sinuous ease. One leopard of polished ebony— One white as the fabled gates of ivory through which, legends say, evil dreams pour from the Hell-city Dis to torment men’s sleep— Two leopards, brilliant green eyes intent on the woman who crouched before the flaming altar, a woman such as Mason had never seen before! She was like a silver statue, exquisitely moulded, her slender body half revealed by a lacy silken robe of black. Long unbound hair, moon-silver, drifted about her ivory shoulders. Her face Mason could not see; the woman knelt before the altar, and her voice, murmuring sorcerous music, whispered words in a tongue completely unfamiliar to the man.
