There is something sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. Birthdays just ain’t the same once you get old kiddo. Prudence shook her head. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. “I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters.
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