Ah! stern Cato Censorius then had yet one tender chord in his heart, one far more tender even than that which had been wrung by the banishment of his son!
There was much talk about Daimona, but not in her favor; and what was said of her was but a shadow of truth—the woman whom the favorite of the Czar worshipped more than all the saints in heaven or earth! It was with her he spent every moment he could snatch from affairs of state. She was the sun of his life—at once his tyrant and his happiness. She was a woman so savage, so cruel and passionate, that none but an Araktseieff could have loved her. Or was it just for that that he did love her? Every one who wished to appeal to Araktseieff, or hoped to escape his vengeance, must first sue to his idol and offer his sacrifice at her feet; and costly sacrifices they must be—no make-believes. Daimona's extortions were renowned throughout the breadth of the empire.
Diabolka's pearly teeth glistened white through her coral lips.
"So you would like to go to Daimona?" asked the great official.
"Why not? She is a woman after my own heart."
"I am not sending you to her to be her servant, but to be her friend."
"Oh, we shall soon be very friendly!"
"She feels lonely; and you will know how to amuse her."
"I will divine her thoughts."
"If she takes a fancy to you, you will be happy with her. She will give you smart clothes, trinkets, and riding-horses."