What do you think?
Rate this book


Nook
Published November 9, 2010
Overhead was a sky of troubled blue; beyond, a lake. “They are off!” The strip of silk had fluttered and fallen, the gates flew open, there was a rumble of wheels, a whirlwind of sand, a yell that deafened, and four tornadoes burst upon the track. They were shell-shaped, and before each six horses tore abreast. Between the horses’ ears were swaying feathers; their manes had been dyed clear pink, the forelocks puffed; and as they bounded, the drivers, standing upright, had the skill to guide but not the strength to curb. About their waists the reins were tied; at the side a knife hung; from the forehead the hair was shaven; and everything they wore, the waistcoat, the short skirt, the ribbons, was of one color, scarlet, yellow, emerald, or blue: and this color, repeated on the car and on the harness, distinguished them from those with whom they raced.
“During a summer abroad Mr. Saltus conceived the idea of writing "Mary Magdalen." The circumstances connected with it are interesting. He was dining in the rooms of Lord Francis Hope one evening. Oscar Wilde was another guest. After their liqueurs and cigars the latter sauntered about, looking at some of the pictures he fancied. One representing Salome intrigued him more than a little. Beckoning to Mr. Saltus, he said: "This picture calls me. I am going to write a classic—a play—'Salome.' It will be my masterpiece." Near it was a small picture of the Magdalen. "Do so," said Mr. Saltus, "and I will write a book—'Mary Magdalen.' We will pursue the wantons together."’