“Indeed you will do no such thing. Do you suppose I would allow that perfect creation to be caricatured by you?”
“Father, she heard me sing it,” thus Dryas, pale with the hurt Theria had given. “She has a perfect memory.”
“My dear boy, do you suppose the matter needs argument?”
“Oh, let her try. Why not?” came the heavy voice of Lycophron. “Then we can finish the scene with a good laugh, anyway.”
“You will not laugh at me,” cried out Theria. “By Hermes, you will not laugh!” The look in her face, suddenly visionary and unafraid, found response in an unexpected quarter.
“Oh, let her try.” Lycophron spoke in a different tone. “Give the poor child a chance.”
“Surely you need no proof,” said the father.
“Be damned if I don’t,” responded the elder brother.
“Then have your proof. It will need few moments.”