He began by offering me an exquisite scarab, saying he had purchased it for me, from a sailor who had touched port.
“For me?” I became suspicious! I fingered the beetle-shaped oval, unlike any I had seen. An amethyst was set in the center with characters engraved around it.
“An Etruscan scarab should make a pretty keepsake,” he said.
“Then I think you should keep it.”
“Why? Are you afraid?” he asked.
“Of what?”
“That it might bring bad luck.”
He laughed ironically, as he flipped and caught the scarab, with a flick of his wrist.
“What is it you want?” I asked, coming directly to the point.
“To be treated with respect, Rhodopis and I—not criticized.”