"We had walked briskly for more than half an hour; and now and again I had paused to point out to Theophrastus some unusually artistic arrangement of the bones, when suddenly we came upon a lighted candle in the left eye of a skull. I concluded that we had at last reached the realm of the living. Then we came upon candles upon candles in the eyes of skulls, and then chandeliers full of twinkling candles. Then we heard voices: the babbling tinkling laughter of women. We were reaching the end of our journey.
"The first twentieth-century words we heard were:
"'Well, dear boy, this function is n't gay. I prefer the Bullier…'
"'Thank goodness, I'm only eighteen years old—a good long way from replacing these tibias!'
"We came into a big cavern to find ourselves in the middle of a fête. No one paid any attention to us; they took us for guests.
"All along those funereal walls were ranged rows of chairs. The light was bright, the candles and the chandeliers of skulls gleamed. At the end of the cavern was a platform covered with lines of music-stands. The musicians were just coming on to the platform.