"I do think much of love," said she, thoughtfully, still looking down at her breast.
"And of me," he insisted.
"Nay, not of you," she answered, without delay.
"I shall know," said he, wistfully, "for I shall consult the fates. I have here a sacred coin. An old dame found it when she was digging in the side of Soracte. See, it has on its face the head of Apollo, and opposite is an arrow in a death-hand. And the hag had an odd dream of this coin, so she told me—that it fell out of the sky, and was, indeed, from the treasury of the gods, and had in it a wonderful power in all mysteries. And one might tell by tossing it in the air and noting its fall, if he were loved or hated by the first one he should see after learning its answer. I have never known it to fail. If the head is up you love me," said he, tossing the disk of metal.
It fell and lay at his feet.
"The head!" he exclaimed, with joy.
"Is it really blest of the gods?" she inquired, eagerly, her cheeks aflame. "Is it indeed blest?"
"So said the woman who gave it me."
"Now I shall toss it," said she, taking the coin.
"Ah! you would know if I love you," he answered.