"Gone, Bill; she's gone. When she saw me, she fetched up, gave that scream, then turned and vanished—around that next turn."
"What is she like, Milton?"
"I wish that I could tell you! But how can a man describe Venus? I know one thing, Bill: if all the daughters of Drome are as fair as this one that I saw, I know where all the movie queens of the future are coming from."
I looked at him, and I laughed.
"Wait till you see her, Bill. Complexion like alabaster, white as Rainier's purest snow! And hair! Oh, that hair, Bill! Like ten billion dollars' worth of spun gold!"
"Gosh."
"Wait till you see her," said Milton.
"And the demon?" I queried.
"I didn't see any demon, Bill."
There was silence for a little space.