CHAPTER XIV

MATING-DAY In the chill of that September morning the great white marble Stadium looked more like a mating-place for spirits than for human men and women. A milk-white mist lay cupped in the vast enclosure, and through its vaporous depths the white seats, tier above tier, rose as with unsubstantial skiey architecture, cloudlike and still. All was deserted, yet one could have imagined the noiseless movement of ghostly pageantry, the unearthly mingling of sprites and airy beings, the dance of some strange progeny of …