"It is; and within five minutes you will see Sullenbode."

When he spoke his words, Maskull's lips surprised him by their tender
sensitiveness. Their action against each other sent thrills throughout
his body.

The grass shone dimly. A huge tree, with glowing branches, came into
sight. It bore a multitude of red fruit, like hanging lanterns, but
no leaves. Underneath this tree Sullenbode was sitting. Her beautiful
light--a mingling of jale and white--gleamed softly through the
darkness. She sat erect, on crossed legs, asleep. She was clothed in
a singular skin garment, which started as a cloak thrown over one
shoulder, and ended as loose breeches terminating above the knees. Her
forearms were lightly folded, and in one hand she held a half-eaten
fruit.

Maskull stood over her and looked down, deeply interested. He thought he
had never seen anything half so feminine. Her flesh was almost melting
in its softness. So undeveloped were the facial organs that they looked
scarcely human; only the lips were full, pouting, and expressive. In
their richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a
background of slumbering protoplasm. Her hair was undressed. Its colour
could not be distinguished. It was long and tangled, and had been tucked
into her garment behind, for convenience.

Corpang looked calm and sullen, but both the others were visibly
agitated. Maskull's heart was hammering away under his chest. Haunte
pulled him, and said, "My head feels as if it were being torn from my
shoulders."

"What can that mean?"

"Yet there's a horrible joy in it," added Haunte, with a sickly smile.

He put his hand on the woman's shoulder. She awoke softly, glanced up at
them, smiled, and then resumed eating her fruit. Maskull did not imagine
that she had intelligence enough to speak. Haunte suddenly dropped on
his knees, and kissed her lips.

She did not repulse him. During the continuance of the kiss, Maskull
noticed with a shock that her face was altering. The features emerged
from their indistinctness and became human, and almost powerful. The
smile faded, a scowl took its place. She thrust Haunte away, rose to her
feet, and stared beneath bent brows at the three men, each one in turn.
Maskull came last; his face she studied for quite a long time, but
nothing indicated what she thought.

Meanwhile Haunte again approached her, staggering and grinning. She
suffered him quietly; but the instant lips met lips the sec