Iras’s lip curled slightly.
“To speak like a philosopher, as you invite me,” she said, “the least part always implies a greater. Let me ask what you esteem the greater part of the rare quality you are pleased to attribute to him.”
Simonides turned upon her somewhat sternly.
“Pure wisdom always directs itself towards God; the purest wisdom is knowledge of God; and no man of my acquaintance has it in higher degree, or makes it more manifest in speech and act, than the good Balthasar.”
To end the parley, he raised the cup and drank.
The Egyptian turned to Esther a little testily.
“A man who has millions in store, and fleets of ships at sea, cannot discern in what simple women like us find amusement. Let us leave him. By the wall yonder we can talk.”
They went to the parapet then, stopping at the place where, years before, Ben-Hur loosed the broken tile upon the head of Gratus.
“You have not been to Rome?” Iras began, toying the while with one of her unclasped bracelets.
“No,” said Esther, demurely.