I'll wager that when the first-born of Canaan was in the flood-tide of glory, this very gown was worn by one of the most beautiful women in the pentapolis of Philistia.

I'm going to photograph the model for the Sunday supplement, and name it _The Nebuchadnezzar_." Amory murmured on, and St.George hardly heard him.

He could almost count by minutes now the time until he should see her.

Would she see him, and might he just possibly speak with her, and what would the evening hold for her?
As he went forth where she would be, the spell of the place was once more laid upon him, as it had been laid in the hour of his coming.

Once more, as in the hour when he had first looked down upon the valley brimming with a light "better than any light that ever shone" he was at one with the imponderable things which, always before, had just eluded him.