"Whose deed is this?" Theodora demanded, holding aloft the covering of the couch.
"It was my accursed luck! The decanter was intended for this lying cur, whose black heart I will wrench out of his body!"
And Benilo pointed to the shrinking form of Roffredo.
"What had he done?"
"He had insulted you!"
"That proves his courage!" she replied with a withering glance of contempt.
Then she beckoned to the attendants.
"Have the girl removed and summon the Greek—though I fear it is too late."
There was a ring of regret in her tones. It vanished as quickly as it had come.
The body of Nelida, the dancing girl, was carried away and the guests resumed their seats. Roxané had reluctantly abandoned her usurped place of honour. A quick flash, a silent challenge passed between the two women, as Theodora took her accustomed seat.