though their funerals were magnificent public processions,
participated in by all the functionaries of the state and lavishly
provided at the public expense, yet the death itself was held to
be a concern of the family of the dead Vestal, not of her surviving
colleagues. The Vestals might mourn but the Atrium was never
in mourning. Its routine went on as if nothing had happened; no
sign of grief was displayed or even permitted; visitors were
received as usual.

Among the first visitors to the Atrium on the morning after
Almo's fight and Meffia's death was, naturally, Flexinna.

At the first word Brinnaria cut her short.

"I don't want to hear his name," she declared. "I'm done
with him forever. I don't love him any longer; I don't care for
him, even; I hate him. It does not concern me whether he
recovers or not. I'd rather he wouldn't recover. The best
thing for both of us would be for him to die anyhow. I wish
he were dead; I wish one of those heavy men had killed him."

"B-B-Brinnaria!" Flexinna remonstrated, "you t-t-talk like
a raving maniac! You look like a F-F-Fury!"

"I'm furious enough!" Brinnaria snarled, "and I've plenty of
good cause for being angry. Was ever woman on earth put in
a position so invidious, so embarrassing? Everybody knew of
my rescue of the retiarius, thousands had seen me rescue him.
Everybody knew of my involvement with Almo before I was
taken for a Vestal, of our love for each other, of my expressed