Under the smooth throat a buckle of dull gold held the sheer, diaphanous folds of the pale amber silk which swathed the high and rounded breasts, hiding no goddess curve of them.
A wide and golden girdle clasped the waist, covered the rounded hips and thighs.

The long, narrow, and high-arched feet were shod with golden sandals, laced just below the rounded knees with flat turquoise studded bands.
And shining through the amber folds, as glowing above them, the miracle of her body.
The dream of master sculptor given life.

A goddess of earth's youth reborn in Himalayan wilds.
She raised her eyes; broke the long silence.
"Now being with you," she said dreamily, "there waken within me old thoughts, old wisdom, old questioning--all that I had forgotten and thought forgotten forever--" The golden voice died--she who had spoken was gone from us, like the fading out of a phantom; like the breaking of a film.
A flicker shot over the skies, another and another.

A brilliant ray of intense green like that of a distant searchlight swept to the zenith, hung for a moment and withdrew.

Up came pouring the lances and the streamers of the aurora; faster and faster, banners and slender shining spears of green and iridescent blues and smoky, glistening reds.
The valley sprang into full view.
I felt Ventnor's grip upon my wrist.