Dedicated
To·Each·Single·Son·of·St.·Pendennis
Who·Worships·not·at·the·Shrine·of
The·Maiden·Priestess·of·To-day
—Let·Him·Look·to't,—
Or·Likewise·He·May·Somewhere·Find
Love·Perpetrated.
Love Instigated.
It was a daisy bit of Ivory.
It was a curious piece of Workmanship.
It was carved and carved again with Conventional Lines, which formed a Female Head of East-Indian Unexceptionableness.
It seemed to Smile and to Beckon, and then to Scowl repellantly—a Living Mockery!
It was Hateful—Oh, so Hateful!—the sight Of so conventional a Thing.