call across the water, till, scared, the little whitebaits turn home in
flight--to find themselves somehow meshed in an invisible prison, a net
as fine and strong as air, into which, O agony! they are presently
hauled, lovely banks of silver, shining like opened coffers beneath the
coarse and ragged flares of yellow torches. The rest is silence.'

'What sad little lives! and what a cruel world it is!' said the
Sphinx--as she crunched with her knife through the body of a lark, that
but yesterday had been singing in the blue sky. Its spirit sang just
above our heads as she ate, and the air was thick with the grey ghosts
of all the whitebait she had eaten that night.

But there were no longer any tears in her eyes.




THE ANSWER OF THE ROSE


The Sphinx and I sat in our little box at _Romeo and Juliet_. It was the
first time she had seen that fairy-tale of passion upon the stage. I had
seen it played once before--in Paradise. Therefore, I rather trembled to
see it again in an earthly play-house, and as much as possible kept my
eyes from the stage. All I knew of the performance--but how much was
that!--was two lovely voices making love like angels; and when there
were no words, the music told me what was going on. Love speaks so many
languages.

One might as well look. It was as clear as moonlight to the tragic eye