"That!" she cried. "The daughter of Costobarus!"
The fine brown eyes of the woman smoldered a little, but she
continued to gaze without the least discomposure.
"Who is this, sir?" she asked of Philadelphus.
"That," said Philadelphus evenly, to the actress, "is Laodice,
daughter of Costobarus."
"I do not understand," the actress said disgustedly. "You are clumsy,
Philadelphus, when you are playful. If this is all, I shall return to
my chamber."
She rose, but Laodice sprang into her path.
"Hold!" she cried. "Philadelphus, hast thou accepted this woman
without proofs?"
Philadelphus smiled and shook his head.
"And by the by," he asked, "what proof have you?"
Up to that moment Laodice had burned with confident rage, feeling
that, by force of the justice of her cause, she might overthrow this
preposterous villainy, but at Philadelphus' question she suddenly
chilled and blanched and shrank back. A new and supreme disadvantage
of her loss presented itself to her at last. She could not prove her
identity!
Meanwhile, seeing Laodice falter, the woman's lip curled.
"Weak! Very weak, Philadelphus," she said. "You must invent something
better. The success of a jest is all that pardons a jester."
"She robbed me!" Laodice panted impotently. "Robbed me, after my
father had given her refuge!"
"Of what?" the Greek asked.
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