"How so?"
"He wants Lydia; we want liberty."
My suspicions were confirmed.
"I suppose Chairo has made love to you—as have all the rest."
The dimple deepened in Neaera's cheek, but she busied herself unfastening the cords that bound my wrist.
"I am going to give you liberty at any rate," she said. "For I want you to do something for me."
"Stick my staff in the ground and put——"
"No; I have forgiven you; it is something very different from that."
My hands were free now, and I stretched them out in exquisite relief.
"Are you a little grateful?"