the King turned his back upon the terrace with its arbour, than all at once, his feet stopped, as it were, of their own accord, as if in their unwillingness to go away, they had suddenly become rooted in the ground. And so he remained standing, with his eyes fixed upon the ground before him, and a soul, out of which everything had utterly disappeared, except the picture of what he had left behind him, standing on the edge of the cliff. And he had totally forgotten Yogeshwara, and the King's Guru, and everything else, so intense was his preoccupation and his endeavour to reconstruct that picture in his mind. And as he stood striving to recall it, all unawares he smiled, so great was his pleasure in its recollection.[10] And he murmured to himself: Strange! that I cannot, I know not why, recollect anything about her, with exact accuracy, except those delicious, and, somehow or other, bewildering, and as it were, provoking brows of hers, with their two surprising arches. For I had no time to examine the rest of her attentively; and moreover, the blue colour of her eyes, in which I seemed to flounder, confused my soul, and stood before it like a mist, in which I could see absolutely nothing else. And yet, if I recollect correctly, the double curve of her brow was as it were repeated, in her lips, which resembled a miniature reproduction of her brow, only red instead of black, and in her soft round bosom, and even all about her, so that she seemed to be a thing composed entirely of twin curves, beginning from her brow.