On whose account you went to Lemnos?
Chrem. No.
Dem. Why not?
Chrem. Her mother grown, it seems, impatient,
Chrem. It seems the mother, grown impatient,
Perceiving that I tarried here so long,
And that the girl’s age brook’d not my delays,
Had journeyed here, they said, in search of me,
With her whole family.
Dem. Appris’d of this,