The two men glared at each other in a silence through which could be heard the cooing of the doves, the trickle of the two fountains, Brinnaria’s low chuckle and the faint lisping sound of three distinct kisses.
“I beg your pardon!” spoke a voice behind them.
The four looked around.
“What brings you here, Segontius?” Brinnarius asked.
“One of my slaves brought me word,” the intruder explained, “that my son had entered this house. I knew you had not changed your mind since you forbade him to cross your threshold, so I came here at once to disclaim any share in his intrusion and to take him home. I feared he might get into mischief.”
“He has,” Brinnarius replied, sententiously, “as you may see.”
Brinnaria, entirely at her ease, hugged Almo rapturously and kissed him repeatedly.
“And I thought,” Segontius pursued, “that you would probably smash every bone in his body if you caught him.”
“I don’t know why I haven’t,” spoke the big man reflectively.
“I know,” shouted Pulfennius, “I can tell you. It is because this whole comedy has been rehearsed between you just to make me ridiculous. I know your way, your malignity, your tenacity of a grudge, your pretence of reconciliation, your ingenuity, your well-laid traps. I’ll be revenged for this yet!”