man stepped into the ring and swirled his cape with a sinister flourish. "But you haven't got your chain on, Harry Wolf," exclaimed Hugh. "Put it on!" and with a mock grimace, the dark one complied. “And now the lady-in-white" and Blanche Wolf stepped into the circle, her long gown trailing on the floor with a spectral echo of crackling cerements. "But your candle isn't lighted" and Hugh commanded with outstretched finger the sudden leap of flame at the tip of the gleaming wax cylinder, as Blanche completed the circle, the light from the candle clutched beneath her breasts causing gaunt hollows to appear beneath her raven brows. “And now, from frosty New England -" and two figures in black-and-white Puritan garb marched sedately into the arena. "And what does your horn-book say, Mark Stevens?” And the dour figure held aloft a replica of the famed horn-book and read aloud the first exercise: "In Adam's fall, We sinned all.” And with a flourish, the old magician pointed to the black-cloaked figure marching behind him. "And what have you to say to that, Grace?" With a sudden movement, the smaller figure held aloft a tiny bell which chimed a fairy-tinkle to the shuffle of their steps. Ss they completed the circuit, a shift in the light caused Robert to rub his eyes wonderingly, for a sudden stir of the cloak on Grace Steven's back revealed the astonishing fact that she was totally naked beneath the ankle length garment. With a hoarse cry, Mark hauled her from the ring. And yet, in the next moment, all the guests were reassured by the prim costume, as Grace flung aside her cloak and continued her solemn march behind her husband.

"And who have we here," as a peasant-girl slipped unbidden into the center. "But that is not your true nature, girl," admonished the cabalist. For answer, the barefoot figure waved aloft a stalk of grain. She continued around to her starting point, then leaped outside again; and as she crossed the line to rejoin the other mortals outside the Pale, her features were recognized as those normally belong to Jeanne Cabell. She giggled and then began to shuffle in the parade.

"Next, we have the

bear-who-would-walk-like-a-man."

The

padding behind Robert ceased then as Ursala leaped into the ring with an ursine whine. That's a misquote — thought Robert to himself as he watched his wife cavort in the ring in the maddening circles of the dancing bear. At length, the old man reached out a bony hand to grasp the chain lying hidden in the matted hair across her ponderous chest and he led her back to her place.

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