Her gentleness had been too roughly overridden.
It was not enough for her to be forbidden more than fugitive dreams of the man she loved; a boastful rival must tell her in confidence of her better success, and of the brilliant promises which were its rewards.

Of her, the servant of a servant, there had been no hint of remembrance; this other could show his letter, leaving her to imagine all it breathed.

So she said, "Dost thou love him so much, then, or Rome so much better ?" The Egyptian drew back a step; then she bent her haughty head quite near her questioner.
"What is he to thee, daughter of Simonides ?" Esther, all thrilling, began, "He is my--" A thought blasting as lightning stayed the words: she paled, trembled, recovered, and answered, "He is my father's friend." Her tongue had refused to admit her servile condition.
Iras laughed more lightly than before.
"Not more than that ?" she said.

"Ah, by the lover-gods of Egypt, thou mayst keep thy kisses--keep them.

Thou hast taught me but now that there are others vastly more estimable waiting me here in Judea; and"-- she turned away, looking back over her shoulder--"I will go get them.