"Myrrha," the girl murmured slowly and dreamily, "look at the sky! How beautiful it would be to bathe in it, like those birds! Do you remember our saying that men could not be happy because they had no wings? When I look at the birds I am consumed with envy. One should be light and bare as I am at this moment, and winging high up in the sky, and knowing that one could fly forever—that there should be nothing else but sky and sun about one's light and free and naked body!"
Drawing herself up to her full height with out-stretched arms she sighed deeply, as at some remembered joy fled away for ever.
The burning caress of the sun now reached her waist. Suddenly she shivered and grew ashamed, as if some living and passionate being had approached her. With one hand she shielded her breast, with the other the abdomen, the immortal gesture of Aphrodite of Cnidos.
"Meroë, give me my clothes! quick, Meroë!" she exclaimed, with eyes wide open and startled.
Julian never remembered how he came forth from the wrestling-ground; his heart was on fire. The poet's face was solemn as that of a man quitting a temple.
"You are not annoyed?" he asked Julian.
"No; why should I be?"
"Perhaps a Christian might find it a temptation?"
"There was nothing of temptation there for me. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly; that is what I thought."