"Dost thou love some one in this house?" asked he.

She raised her blue, tearful eyes to him, and answered, in a voice so
low that it was hardly possible to hear her,--"Yes, lord."

And with those eyes, with that golden hair thrown back, with fear and
hope in her face, she was so beautiful, she looked at him so
entreatingly, that Petronius, who, as a philosopher, had proclaimed the
might of love, and who, as a man of æsthetic nature, had given homage to
all beauty, felt for her a certain species of compassion.

"Whom of those dost thou love?" inquired he, indicating the servants
with his head.

There was no answer to that question. Eunice inclined her head to his
feet and remained motionless.

Petronius looked at the slaves, among whom were beautiful and stately
youths. He could read nothing on any face; on the contrary, all had
certain strange smiles. He looked then for a while on Eunice lying at
his feet, and went in silence to the triclinium.

After he had eaten, he gave command to bear him to the palace, and then
to Chrysothemis, with whom he remained till late at night. But when he
returned, he gave command to call Tiresias.

"Did Eunice receive the flogging?" inquired he.

"She did, lord. Thou didst not let the skin be cut, however."