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So Anaitis and Jurgen came through narrow paths, like murmuring green caverns, into a courtyard walled and paved with yellow marble, wherein was nothing save the dimly colored statue of a god with ten heads and thirty-four arms: he was represented as very much engrossed by a woman, and with his unoccupied hands was holding yet other women. "It is Jigsbyed," said Anaitis.
A very old fellow, regally crowned, lies asleep under an ash-tree, guarded by a watchman who has more arms and hands than Jigsbyed." "It is Atlantis you behold, and the sleeping of ancient Time Time, to whom this glass belongs, while Briareus watches." "Time sleeps quite naked, Anaitis, and, though it is a delicate matter to talk about, I notice he has met with a deplorable accident."
Said Jurgen: "I do not criticize. Nevertheless, I think this Jigsbyed is carrying matters to extremes." Then they passed the statue of Tangaro Loloquong, and afterward the statue of Legba. Jurgen stroked his chin, and his color heightened. "Now certainly, Queen Anaitis," he said, "you have unusual taste in sculpture."
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