“You need not fear that. Virginius belongs to the jealous God, and will look after his position jealously. Besides, after a time, you will learn to like her.” And again he gave the sidelong, piercing glance.
“Not I. Before I arrived some malign fairy godmother had stepped in and bestowed a bundle of infirmities; I suppose from other years.” Here Plucritus laughed right out, and his laugh was very clear and low.
“Alas! poor Genius! you have been forestalled. A man afflicted that way is bitter enough and bad enough—but a woman!”
“Yes. It has put me out considerably. For of all things I love the beauty of proportion. And I am not able to find out who has done it.”
“Virginius,” said Plucritus, gaily, “it is to be the scourge and rod wherewith He chasteneth. Now, had I arrived there first I should have gifted her with rarest beauty—as a snare, you know.”
“Well, I am going now,” Plucritus went on. “The removal of a paltry curse is but a paltry affair, scarcely worthy of my notice. But for all that, before I go I will lay you a wager, Genius, that you will not be able to perform your task.”
“And what is the bet?”
“Why, it will grow with time. At present it is nondescript and vague. Say that ring upon your finger. But to show you that I bear no ill-will let us shake hands for old comradeship.”
And so these two clasped hands and parted, and Virginius and Genius were left alone.
Then Genius removed from the middle finger of his left hand a ring, and held it in the moonlight.