“No, I am not a Jewess. I am a Galilæn.” “What is your name, Miriam or Noëmi?” “My Syriac name you shall not know. It is a royal name which is not home here. My friends call me Chrysis, and it is a compliment that you might have paid me.” He put his hand on her arm. “Oh! no, no,” she said mockingly. “It is much too late for this kind of trifling. Let me go home quickly. I have been up for nearly three hours. I am dying of hunger.” Bending down, she took her foot in her hand: ill-013 _Bending down, she took her foot in her hand._ “See how my little thongs hurt me. They are too tightly strapped. If I do not loose them in a moment, I shall have a mark on my foot, and that will be a pretty object to kiss. Leave me quickly. Ah! what an ado! If I had known, I would not have stopped. My yellow veil is all crumpled at the waist, look.” Demetrios passed his hand over his forehead; then, with the careless air of a man who condescends to make his choice, he murmured: “Show me the way.” “I shall do nothing of the kind,” said Chrysis with a stupefied air. “You do not even ask me whether it is my pleasure. “Show me the way! Listen to him! Do you take me for a porneion-girl, who puts herself on her back for three obols without looking to see who is possessing her? Do you even know whether I am free? Do you know what appointments I may have? Have you followed me in the street? Have you noted the doors that open for me? Have you counted the men who think they are loved by Chrysis? Show me the way! I shall not show it you, if you please. Stay here or go away, but you shall not go home with me!” “You do not know who I am.” “You? Of course I do! You are Demetrios of Saïs; you made the statue of my goddess; you are the lover of my queen and the lord of my town. But for me you are nothing but a handsome slave, because you have seen me and you love me.” She came a little nearer to him, and went on in a caressing voice: