Theodora gave a shrug.
"To him who truly loves nothing is impossible. You are the trusted friend of the Senator who encompasses my undoing—need I say more?"
"Were I not, Lady Theodora, in seeming,—who knows, but that your blood would long have dyed this Roman soil, or some dark crypt contained your wonderful beauty? Bide but the time—"
An impatient wave of Theodora's hand interrupted the speaker.
"Time has me now! Will there ever be an end to this uncertainty?"
"You have not yet told me the name of him whose sudden advent on the stage has brought about so marvellous a transformation," Basil said with an air of baffled passion and rage.
"What matters the name, my lord?" Theodora interposed with a sardonic smile.
"A nameless stranger then," he flashed with a swiftness that staggered even the woman, astute as she was.
"I said not so—"
"A circumstance that should recommend him to our consideration," he muttered darkly. "I shall find him—and bring him to the feast—"