Slowly he crossed the chamber, struggling to defend his soul.
"I dare not look upon your face again," said he, sternly.
She ran before and tried to stop him.

"Hear me, son of Varro," said she.

"It is my will to help you." "I will not look upon your face again," he repeated.
She struck at his hand fiercely, her foot stamping on the floor.

Now was she of the catlike tribe of Herod.
"Go, stupid fool!" The words came hissing from her lips.

"I hate you!" She ran away, with impassioned laughter.