Her long gold hair
streamed over her shoulders in magnificent waves; a stiffly
flowing garment of some unknown texture covered her limbs and the
lower part of her body; her shoulders and breasts and arms were
bare, and shone with a dazzling whiteness.
Beside her was a smaller seat, also of gold, and on this crouched
the form of an Inca--the king. About them, at a respectful
distance, were ranged attendants and guards--a hundred or more,
for the alcove was of an impressive size. The light from the four
urns shone in upon it with such brightness that I could clearly
distinguish the whites of Desiree's eyes.
All this I saw in a single flash, and I turned to Harry:
"Not a word, on your life! This is Desiree's game; trust her to
play it."
"But what the deuce is she doing there?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"She seems to have found another king. You know her fondness for
royalty."
"Paul, for Heaven's sake--"
"All right, Hal. But we're safe enough, I think. Most probably
our introduction to court. This is what they call 'the dizzy
heights of prominence.' Now keep your eyes open--something is
going to happen."
There was a movement in the alcove.
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