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“What makes you think it?”

“In the first place, she would not tell a lie for anything, and gets us all into dreadful scrapes by her absurd truthfulness.”

“Good! what next?”

“Then she cares not for money or gifts; and so prevents our having them offered.”

“Better!”

“And moreover she is—” the last word died in the ear of Corvinus, who replied:

“Well, indeed, I have to-day been out of the gate to meet a caravan of your countryfolk coming in; but you beat them all!”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Afra with delight, “who were they?”

“Simply Africans,”[41] replied Corvinus, with a laugh: “lions, panthers, leopards.”

“Wretch! do you insult me thus?”

“Come, come, be pacified. They are brought expressly to rid you of your hateful Christians. Let us part friends. Here is your money. But let it be the last; and let me know when the philtres begin to work. I will not forget your hint about Christian money. It is quite to my taste.”

As he departed by the Sacred Way, she pretended to go along the Carinæ, the street between the Palatine and the Cœlian mounts; then turned back, and looking after him, exclaimed: “Fool! to think that I am going to try experiments for you on a person of Fabiola’s character!”