Presently the curtains were drawn apart and through them came Saturius rubbing his hands and smiling somewhat nervously, followed by a woman wrapped in a long cloak and veiled. He began to offer the customary salutations, but Domitian cut him short.
“Rise, man,” he said. “That sort of thing is very well in public, but I don’t want it here. So you have got her,” he added, eyeing the draped form in the background.
“Yes,” replied Saturius doubtfully.
“Good, your services shall be remembered. You were ever a discreet and faithful agent. Did the bidding run high?”
“Oh! my lord, enormous, ee—normous. I never heard such bidding,” and he stretched out his hands.
“Impertinence! Who dared to compete with me?” remarked Domitian. “Well, what did you have to give?”
“Fifty sestertia, my lord.”
“Fifty sestertia?” answered Domitian with an air of relief. “Well, of course it is enough, but I have known beautiful maidens fetch more. By the way, dear one,” he went on, addressing the veiled woman, “you must, I fear, be tired after all that weary, foolish show.”
The “dear one” making no audible reply, Domitian went on:
“Modesty is pleasing in a maid, but now I pray you, forget it for awhile. Unveil yourself, most beautiful, that I may behold that loveliness for which my heart has ached these many days. Nay, that task shall be my own,” and he advanced somewhat unsteadily towards his prize.