And whilst I mention them I may describe them briefly.
In this palace the slaves and menials were countless, and in shape they were all lean, deformed, wrinkled, and hungry-eyed. They walked about naked, unable to hide one disproportioned limb or hideous defect, and ever through the hungry look within their eyes hatred would gleam and baffled cunning. They alone were in themselves fit subjects for depression, for spirit-instinct told me that round each form was wreathed a history of the past, binding like some tight chain.
These led me, with many varied expressions of obeisance, to the large dining-hall. Here there were many tables, but only one was laid, and this was at the farther end, beside a fireplace.
They were waiting for me—were not yet seated. As I approached they turned from the conversation in which they were engaged and looked at me with some interest. But into the eyes of Plucritus, as he glanced over me, there blazed a flash of anger. I noticed it, and the cause, though the expression was momentary.
“This is our guest,” he said, turning from me to her.
“I know,” she answered lightly, coming forward. “We are well acquainted, though he preferred sleep to me. For all that I have never had your name on good authority, nor indeed at all.”
“Well,” observed Plucritus, slowly, “I do not know that you will ever get his name on good authority, as you call it. He has no name, for the planet from which he comes does not acknowledge him. But as here, at least, we are courteous we will give him the name that best suits his vanity; we will call him Genius. Vestné, this is Genius—Genius, here is my wife.”
“I expect,” she said, with that half-laughing sigh of hers, “you have cast a libel on us both.”
“Not so,” he rejoined. “I describe you as my wife to suit his morals. He has come from Earth, you know the place I mean, where they are all moral on the outside, but underneath they suit their own convenience.”
As he spoke he stood behind her and eyed me with the hard, unflinching stare which was so distasteful. I remember a rather awkward pause followed on this remark till Vestné led the way to the table and sat down. She had attired herself in the most lovely raiment eye could wish, and the soft, silken coils about her head were of the beauty of simplicity.