for you to feel that way. You were very angry. But your anger
will wear off."

"My anger may," Brinnaria admitted, "but never my
resentment and my disgust."

"Only time can prove whether your forecast is correct," the Pontiff
soothed her, "but are you justified even in being resentful? Ought
you not rather to be thankful that chance or fate or the direct
intervention of the gods working through Almo gave you the
precious opportunity to free yourself from the shadow of an
imputation that lay upon you from your entrance into the order?
Rome vaguely suspected you of too warm an interest in Almo.
Much of Rome had seen and all Rome had heard of your theatrical
rescue of a gladiator totally unknown to you. All Rome knew your
impulsive nature. All Rome has now seen you perfectly controlled
and outwardly calm with Almo on the verge of death before your
eyes. Everybody has watched you ignore him and show less interest
in his fate than you once manifested towards a casual savage.
Your outward observance of the conventions under such trying
circumstances has abolished any qualms the people felt because
of your many past unconventionalities. This puts you in a very strong
position toward any possible accusation or trial. You know how
earnestly you have talked to me of your dread of such contingencies.
Ought you not, after thinking it over, to forget your anger against
Almo and to feel positively grateful for the opportunity so to exalt
ourself?"

"Perhaps I ought," Brinnaria mused. "The value to me of the
results I had not thought of, but admit it now that you expound it.