'Good. Then we are both satisfied. This is much better than making
pretence of what we don't feel, and playing a comedy with our two
selves for spectators. You amused me for a while; that is over; now
you amuse me in another way. Turn a little towards the light. Let me
have a look at your pretty face, Basilidion.'
She spoke with a Greek accent, mingling now and then with the Roman
speech a Greek word or exclamation, and her voice, sonorous rather
than melodious, one moment seemed about to strike the note of anger,
at another seemed softening to tenderness.
'With your leave,' said Basil, 'I will be gone. I have matters of
some importance to attend to.'
'With your leave,' echoed Heliodora, 'I will detain you yet a
little. For you, Basilidion, there is only one matter of importance,
and it may be that I can serve you better therein than any you
esteem your graver friends. There, now, I see your face. Holy Mary I
how wan and worn it is. From my heart I pity you, Basilidion. Come
now, tell me the story. I have heard fifty versions, some credible,
some plain fable.
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