A titter of laughter went around the room.
“My dear madam?” queried the auctioneer, looking at her dubiously, “might I ask if you mean sestertii or sestertia?[*] Your pardon, but it has occurred to me that you might be confounding the two sums.”
[*] A sestertius was worth less than 2d., a sestertium was a sum of money of the value of about £8.
“Two thousand sestertia,” repeated the matter-of-fact voice with the foreign accent.
“Well, well,” said the auctioneer, “I suppose that I must accept the bid. Friend Saturius, I have two thousand sestertia, and it is against you.”
“Against me it must remain, then,” replied the little man in a fury. “Do all the kings in the world want this girl? Already I have exceeded my limit by five hundred sestertia. I dare do no more. Let her go.”
“Don’t vex yourself, Saturius,” said the auctioneer, “bidding is one thing, paying another. At present I have a bona-fide bid of fifteen hundred from you. Unless this liberal but unknown lady is prepared with the cash I shall close on that. Do you understand, madam?”
“Perfectly,” answered the veiled old woman. “Being a stranger to Rome I thought it well to bring the gold with me, since strangers cannot expect credit.”
“To bring the gold with you!” gasped the auctioneer. “To bring two thousand sestertia with you! Where is it then?”
“Where? Oh! in my servant’s and my own baskets, and something more as well. Come, good sir, I have made my bid. Does the worthy gentleman advance?”