Altogether, she looked, Philip declared, positively Burne-Jonesey, and he called her the Blessed Damosel.
When at last they entered the Studio of the Blaney brother and sister, Patty blinked several times, before she could collect her senses.

It was very dimly lighted, and a strange, almost stifling sense of oppression came over her.

This was caused by the burning of various incense sticks and pastilles which gave out a sweet, spicy odour, and which made a slight haze of smoke.

Becoming a little accustomed to the gloom, Patty discerned her host, amazingly garbed in an Oriental burnoose and a voluminous silk turban.

He took her hand, made a deep salaam, and kissed her finger-tips with exaggerated ceremony.
"My sister, Alla," he said, "Miss Fairfield." Patty looked up to see a tall, gaunt woman smiling at her.