Yet it was not her height that sent through me the thrill of awe, of half incredulous terror which, relaxing my grip, let my smoking rifle drop to earth; nor was it that about her proud head a cloud of shining tresses swirled and pennoned like a misty banner of woven copper flames--no, nor that through her veils her body gleamed faint radiance.
It was her eyes--her great, wide eyes whose clear depths were like pools of living star fires.

They shone from her white face--not phosphorescent, not merely lucent and light reflecting, but as though they themselves were SOURCES of the cold white flames of far stars--and as calm as those stars themselves.
And in that face, although as yet I could distinguish nothing but the eyes, I sensed something unearthly.
"God!" whispered Ventnor.

"What IS she ?" The woman stepped from the crevice.

Not fifty feet from her were Ruth and Drake and Chiu-Ming, their rigid attitudes revealing the same shock of awe that had momentarily paralyzed me.
She looked at them, beckoned them.

I saw the two walk toward her, Chiu-Ming hang back.