"Perchance, my Lord Basil, our fair Theodora should be able to enlighten you on that point—"
"Of whom do you speak?" Basil turned to the woman.
There was something ominous in his eyes. His face was pale.
Theodora regarded him contemptuously, her dark slumbrous eyes turning from him to the woman.
"Beware lest I be tempted to strangle you," she spoke in a low tone, her white hands opening and closing convulsively.
"Like Persephoné, your Circassian,—in the Emperor's Tomb?" came the taunting reply.
Theodora's face was white as lightning.
"I should not leave the work undone!"
"Neither should I," came the purring reply, as Roxana extended her wonderful hands and arms. "Meanwhile—will you not inform your guests of the story of the pilgrim, who well-nigh caused Marozia's sister to enter a nunnery?"
A group of listeners had gathered about.