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p. 113


What do you want, old girl? --To console you. --'Tis wasted effort. --I have been told that since your quarrel, you've gone from love to love, but have never found forgetfulness or peace. I come to suggest some one to you.

--Speak. --She is a young slave born in Sardis. She has not her equal in the world, for she is both man and woman, although her breast and long hair and clear voice are most deceptive.

--Her age? --Sixteen. --Her height? --Tall. She has known no one here excepting Psappha, who is madly in love with her and wished to buy her from me for twenty minae. If you should hire her, then she is yours. --What shall I do about it?

For twenty-two nights I've tried in vain to flee from memory. . . So be it; I'll take this one more, but warn the dear that she should not be frightened if I sob within her arms.

Next: Rending Memory