Up a Winding Stair

“Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly. “’Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy; The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there.” “Oh, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.” They walked in, the women, beautiful women, rich women - greedy women. And Clark Holt took them - for money, for laughs and for everything they had. Then Ione came, beautiful and willful, and it was the fly who trapped the spider in a web that was silken - and strangling, too.