After his close
communication with the beautiful girl for whom his heart warmed as it
had never done before, he was instantly aware of an immense contrast
between her and the woman who had been introduced to him at that
moment. They were both Jewesses; both were beautiful, each in her own
way; both appeared intelligent and winsome. But he loved the girl, and
this woman stood in the way of that love. Therefore her charms were
nullified; her latent faults intensified; all in all she repelled him
because she was an obstacle.
The injustice in his feelings toward her did not occur to him. He was
angry because she had come; he hated her for her stateliness; he found
himself looking for defects in her and belittling her undeniable
graces. Confused and for the moment without plan, he looked at her
frowning, and with cold astonishment the woman gazed back at him.
"Thou art Laodice, daughter of Costobarus?" he asked, to gain time.
She inclined her head.
"When--when dost thou expect Philadelphus?" he asked next.
"Why do you ask?" she parried.
"I--I have a message for him," he essayed finally. "Is he here?"
"Tell me, who art thou?" the woman asked pointedly.
A vision of the girl, flushed and trembling with pleasure at sight of
him, flashed with poignant effect upon him at that moment. The warmth
and softness of her hands under the pressure of his happy lips was
still with him.
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