And again the delicate hand moved as if to drop the curtain.
“But I do know something,” Paegnion hastened to reply. “He has, as you say, another name.”
“Who told you so?”
“He himself.”
“What did he say?”
“That I won’t tell.”
“Are you so timid, Paegnion? I thought the Attic boys were braver. Besides, what do you risk by telling me, a woman? I shall never see your master, never have a chance to speak to him—what do you fear?”
Paegnion reflected a moment.
“No!” he cried resolutely, “I dare not! He might find out.”
“That’s a pity! I thought you would earn some money. Look!” the young girl continued, holding out a number of small flat silver coins in a box and showing them to Paegnion, “here are twelve triobols.”