Come to me, my goddess, my desired." The figure glided yet nearer, and I could see that it was trembling, and now its arms were extended also.
At the bedside she halted, and Leo laid himself down again.

Now the coverings had fallen back, exposing his breast, where lay the leather satchel he always wore, that which contained the lock of Ayesha's hair.
He was fast asleep, and the figure seemed to fix its eyes upon this satchel.

Presently it did more, for, with surprising deftness those white-wrapped fingers opened its clasp, yes, and drew out the long tress of shining hair.

Long and earnestly she gazed at it, then gently replaced the relic, closed the satchel and for a little while seemed to weep.

While she stood thus the dreaming Leo once more stretched out his arms and spoke, saying, in the same passion-laden voice--"Come to me, my darling, my beautiful, my beautiful!" At those words, with a little muffled scream, like that of a scared night-bird, the figure turned and flitted through the doorway.
When I was quite certain that she had gone, I gasped aloud.
What might this mean, I wondered, in a very agony of bewilderment.