The Targa slave stood rigid before her, one hand on his heart, the other on his forehead, saluting.
Antinea spoke in a hard voice, without looking at the man.
"Why did you let the leopard pass? I told you that I wanted to be alone."
"He knocked us over, mistress," said the Targa humbly.
"The doors were not closed, then?"
The slave did not answer.
"Shall I take him away?" he asked.
And his eyes, fastened upon King Hiram who stared at him maliciously, expressed well enough his desire for a negative reply.
"Let him stay since he is here," said Antinea.
She tapped nervously on the little silver tray.