And then I recalled those mysterious stories about the waxworkers of the middle ages and the public reprobation attached to their trade. Did they not live in cellars, in the eternal twilight propitious for enchantments...

If you think we’re waxworks,” he said, “you ought to pay, you know.Waxworks weren’t made to be looked at for nothing. Nohow!””Contrariwise,” added the one marked ‘DEE’, “if you think we’re alive, you ought to...