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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"

And yet I do not know
why it should have given me that idea, seeing that the wrappings were so
thin that one could distinctly see the gleam of the pink flesh beneath
them. I suppose it was owing to the way in which they were arranged,
either accidentally, or more probably by design. Anyhow, I felt more
frightened than ever at this ghost-like apparition, and my hair began
to rise upon my head as the feeling crept over me that I was in the
presence of something that was not canny. I could, however, clearly
distinguish that the swathed mummy-like form before me was that of a
tall and lovely woman, instinct with beauty in every part, and also
with a certain snake-like grace which I had never seen anything to
equal before. When she moved a hand or foot her entire frame seemed to
undulate, and the neck did not bend, it curved.
"Why art thou so frightened, stranger?" asked the sweet voice again--a
voice which seemed to draw the heart out of me, like the strains of
softest music. "Is there that about me that should affright a man? Then
surely are men changed from what they used to be!" And with a little
coquettish movement she turned herself, and held up one arm, so as
to show all her loveliness and the rich hair of raven blackness that
streamed in soft ripples down her snowy robes, almost to her sandalled
feet.


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