"No!" she said stubbornly. "He has judged her without seeing her, when, by your own words, he expects her to bring him fortune and position. What is he bringing her?"
The Maccabee looked at her thoughtfully before he answered.
"Nothing! Not even his heart!" he vowed.
Laodice caught her breath in an agony of indignation and distress.
"He does not in any way deserve–" she stopped precipitately. She was about to add "the great fortune he is to get," when she realized that she was taking this husband nothing–not even her own heart. She went on, for the first time a little glad that she was penniless.
"He may find–neither fortune, nor position, nor heart awaiting him!" she finished pointedly.
The Maccabee pulled one of his stubborn locks that had fallen over his eyes. The smile grew less vivid.
He had no comment to make to this. Meanwhile Laodice looked at him.
"Shall–you be with–your friend in Jerusalem?" she asked.
"It depends on his wife," he retorted with a grimace.