"I will assist myself. Where are my sisters?" asked Fable.
"Everywhere, and yet nowhere," answered the Sphinx.
"Dost thou know me?"
"Not as yet."
"Where is Love?"
"In the imagination."
"And Sophia?"
The Sphinx murmured inaudibly to itself, and rustled its wings.
"Sophia and Love!" cried Fable triumphantly, and passed the door. She stepped into an immense cave, and joyfully reached the aged sisters, who were pursuing their wonderful occupation, by the poor light of a dimly burning lamp. They seemed not to notice their little guest, who busily hovered around them with artless caresses. At last one of them with a crabbed face roughly rebuked her.
"What wouldst thou here, idler? Who has admitted thee? Thy childish steps disturb the quiet flame. The oil is burning to waste. Canst thou not be seated, and occupy thyself usefully?"