"No!" roared Commodus. "The man might poison me! Bring me the cup, and you fill it yourself! Make haste before I die of thirst! Then bring me another lamp and dose the shutters! No slaves—I can't bear the sight of them!"
"Instantly, Commodus. I am coming with it now. Only wait while I pierce the amphora."
She closed the door and looked swiftly once again at Pertinax. He frowned over the list of names and did not look at her. She walked straight up to Galen.
"Give me!" she demanded, holding out her hand. He drew a little parchment package from his bosom and she clutched it, saying nothing. Galen was the one who spoke:
"Responsibility is his who orders. May the gods see that it falls where it belongs."
She took no notice of his speech but stood for a moment untying the strings of the package, frowning to herself, then bit the string through and, clutching the little package in her fist, took a gilded tool from beside the snow-bowl and pierced the seal of the amphora. Then she put the poison in the bottom of the golden cup and poured the wine—with difficulty, since the jar was heavy, but Pertinax, who watched intently, made no movement to assist. She stirred the wine with one of her long hair-pins.
"Marcia!" roared Commodus.
"I am coming now."
She went into the bedroom, leaving the door not quite closed behind her.
Pertinax began to stare at Galen critically. Galen blinked at him.
Commodus' voice came very distinctly from the inner room:
"Taste first, Marcia! Olympus! I can't see you in the dark. Come close. Are your lips wet? Let me feel them!"