‘Have I put it into his head?’ replied Cestus, with concentrated scorn. ‘Oh, to be sure. Had I put it into his head, in the first place, I should hardly have taken the trouble I have to drive it out again.’
His sister being silenced he said no more, and sat tilting himself backward and forward, in moody silence, on his stool.
Neæra bestowed on him one or two lofty glances, which plainly showed that her ideas flowed in the same direction as the dame’s. She said nothing, however, and glided hither and thither, in and out, in her occupation. Presently she went quietly to the door of the workshop, and, tapping gently, asked for admission. Cestus caught the sounds and stopped his restless motion. The door creaked open, and by and by it closed again, and Neæra returned into the passage. The Suburan’s quick ear heard the voices of the two females mingling outside. There was a smothered sob, and presently a light foot sped up the stairs. Tibia then came into the room to give a parting touch to its arrangements before retiring for the night. Her face was more dejected than ever.
‘She has been in to see him,’ observed Cestus.
Tibia nodded yes.
‘And did no good, I can tell.’
The dame this time shook her head, and remained standing, with one hand on her hip and the other underneath a kind of apron which she wore over her gown, as if ready to lift it to stanch the drops which struggled into her patient eyes.
‘Very well, then,’ continued her brother, ‘we may as well give the matter up, for the man will go his own way. It’s of no use to show him his madness. That being the case, there is something you must know without any further delay, since he is determined to throw himself away. Wait and I will bring him in.’
‘He is busy, Cestus,’ dissuaded she.
‘He will have to make a few moments’ leisure, however,’ was the reply, and the Suburan went accordingly to summon the potter.