thoughts on his gloomy face, for she said after a while,--"No, Marcus.
That has happened which Lygia herself wished."

"It was known to thee that she wished to flee!" burst out Vinicius.

"I knew that she would not become thy concubine." And she looked at him
with her misty eyes almost sternly.

"And thou,--what hast thou been all thy life?"

"I was a slave, first of all."

But Vinicius did not cease to be enraged. Cæsar had given him Lygia;
hence he had no need to inquire what she had been before. He would find
her, even under the earth, and he would do what he liked with her. He
would indeed! She should be his concubine. He would give command to
flog her as often as he pleased. If she grew distasteful to him, he
would give her to the lowest of his slaves, or he would command her to
turn a handmill on his lands in Africa. He would seek her out now, and
find her only to bend her, to trample on her, and conquer her.

And, growing more and more excited, he lost every sense of measure, to
the degree that even Acte saw that he was promising more than he could
execute; that he was talking because of pain and anger. She might have
had even compassion on him, but his extravagance exhausted her patience,
and at last she inquired why he had come to her.

Vinicius did not find an answer immediately. He had come to her because
he wished to come, because he judged that she would give him
information; but really he had come to Cæsar, and, not being able to see