blood dropping from his chin spotted the bright green.

The populace groaned.

Manlia prayed.

Brinnaria, under scrutiny of two hundred thousand eyes, sat
erect, fanned herself steadily, and gazed straight before her.
To all appearance she was as indifferent to Almo as if he
did not exist.

After that Alma moved like a sleep-walker or a man in a
dream, dully and dazedly.

The big man feinted and lunged cleverly. The point of his
weapon ripped Alma's thigh on the outside above the knee.
No man could stand up after such a wound. He went down,
his shield under him.

From all around the arena, from every tier, automatically,
thousands of arms shot out, thumb flat. Instantly every arm
whipped back and was hidden under its owner's robe. All
realized that expression of sympathy was not their business.
A hush fell. Everybody looked at the Emperor and at Brinnaria.

Brinnaria sat erect in her arm-chair, fanning herself evenly,
staring straight across the arena. The same instinct, the same
curiosity which actuated the rest of the audience, restrained
the Vestals from giving the sign of mercy. All felt that the
matter concerned only Aurelius and Brinnaria, that for anyone