And now, as your dear Roman friends say, _Vale!_ We are off!" Artemisia flung herself on the form of Sesostris, and covered the black, ugly face with kisses.
"He's growing cold," she lamented.

"What is the matter?
I can't leave him this way!" But Agias did not dare to admit the least delaying.
"Dear Artemisia," he said, "we can't do anything for Sesostris.

I will explain to you by and by about him.

He is not feeling cold now at all.
You must come at once with me.

I will take you where Pratinas will never touch you." III If Agias had been a trifle more reckless he would have cut short Pratinas's thread of life then and there, and greatly diminished the chance of unpleasant consequences.