Julian looked in, and started back.
At twenty paces from him stood a young girl entirely naked. His eyes swept over her wonderful body. She was holding a discus in her hand.
Julian longed instinctively to beat a retreat; but turning, he saw in the eyes of Publius and upon the whole of that lean tawny face such a look of admiration, that he understood that the adorer of Hellas, in bringing him to the place, had been moved by no shameful thought; that enthusiasm was wholly sacred.
Publius, seizing the hand of Julian, murmured:
"Look! We are now nine centuries back, in ancient Laconia. Do you remember the verses of Propertius—
"Multa tuæ, Sparte, miramur jura palæstræ,
Sed mage virginei, tot bona gymnasii,
Quod non infames exercet corpore ludos
Inter luctantes nuda puella viros?"
"Who is she?" asked Julian.
"I don't know. I never wanted to know."
"That is well! Hush!"
Now he gazed eagerly and without shame at the girl hurling the disk. Blushes were unworthy of a philosopher.