He turned to the goddess again, and almost chaunted: "Oh! Aphrodite of the divine lips and soulful eyes, what mystery do you hold for us mortals?
What do you promise us?
What do you make us pay?
Is the good worth the anguish?
Is the fulfillment a cup worth draining--without counting the cost ?" "What does she answer you ?" whispered Halcyone.

"Does she say that to live and fulfill destiny as the beautiful year does is the only good?
It is wiser not to question and weigh the worth, for even though we would not drink, perhaps we cannot escape--since there is Fate." John Derringham pulled himself together with an effort.

He felt he was drifting into wonderland, where the paths were too tenderly sweet and flowered for him to dare to linger, for there he might find and quaff of the poison cup.

So he said in a voice which he strove to bring back to earth: "Where did you get the beautiful thing?
She is of untold value, of course you know ?" Halcyone took the marble into her hands lovingly.
"She came to me out of the night," she said.

"Some day I might tell you how--but not to-day.