Its black tongue darted to and fro along that strange smile.
"He has kissed her!" Antony exclaimed, and in an instant the adder was nothing more than a terrified rustle in the brushwood.
He took Silencieux into his hands.

There was poison on her lips.

For another moment his fancy made him self-conscious, and turned Silencieux again into a symbol,--though it was but for a moment.
"There is always poison on the lips of Art," he said to himself..