Philadelphus got upon his feet and looked to
catch the first glimpse of the woman who was bringing him two hundred
talents.
A woman entered the hall. Behind her came a servant bearing a
shittim-wood casket.
Had Amaryllis been looking for suspicious signs, she would have
observed in the intense silence that fell, in the arrested attitude of
the pair, more than a natural embarrassment. Any one informed that
these were a pair of impostors would have seen that there was no
confusion here, but amazement, chagrin and no little fear.
Instead, Amaryllis, nothing suspecting, glanced from one set face to
the other and laughed.
"Poor children! Married fourteen years and more than strangers to each
other! I will take myself off until you recover."
She signed to the servant to follow her and passed out of the hall.
Philadelphus then put off his stony quiet and gazed wrathfully at the
woman who had entered.
Hers was a fine frame, broad and square of shoulder, tall and lank of
hip as some great tiger-cat, and splendid in its sinuosity. She had
walked with a long stride and as she dropped into the chair she
crossed her limbs so that her well-turned ankles showed and the hands
she clasped about her knees were long and strong, white and remarkably
tapering. Her features were almost too perfect; her beauty was
sensuous, insolent and dazzling.
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