“But it is so cold here.”
“Take my cloak and cover him with that.”
“Then you will be frozen.”
“I am used to it. How long has Keraunus had dealings with the doctor?”
Selene related the accident that had befallen her father and how justified were her fears. The sculptor listened to her in silence and then said in a quite altered tone:
“I am truly sorry to hear it. Let us put some cold water on his forehead, and until the slaves come back again I will change the wet cloth every quarter of an hour. Here is a jar and a handkerchief—good, they might have been left on purpose. Perhaps, too, it will wake him, and if not the people shall carry him to his own rooms.”
“Disgraceful, disgraceful!” sighed the girl.
“Not at all; the high-priest of Serapis even is sometimes unwell. Only let me see to it.”
“It will excite him afresh if he sees you. He is so angry with you—so very angry.”
“Omnipotent Zeus, what harm have I done you, fat father! The gods forgive the sins of the wise, and a man will not forgive the fault committed by a stupid lad in a moment of imprudence.”