“Certainly not. The first night she passed here, she brought a lover, and I swear to you there was no make-believe about her. When a woman is sincere, I can see it by her eyes. That did not prevent her from returning once quite alone. And she has promised me a third night.” “You don’t know whether she has any other _amie_ in the gardens? Nobody?” “Yes, one of her countrywomen, Chimairis. She is very poor.” “Where does she live? I must see her.” “She has slept in the wood for upwards of a year. She has sold her house. But I know where her den is. I can take you to it if you wish. Put on my sandals, will you?” Demetrios rapidly buckled the plaited leather straps round Melitta’s slender ankles. Then he handed her her short robe, which she merely threw over her arm, and they departed in haste. They walked far. The park was immense. From time to time, a girl under a tree proffered her name and opened her robe, then lay down again and leaned her face upon her hand. Melitta knew some of them: they embraced her without stopping her. Passing before a rustic altar, she gathered three great flowers and placed them upon the stone. ill-028 _“My little girl! my little love! how are you?”_ It was not yet dusk. The intense light of summer days has something permanent about it which lingers vaguely in the slow twilight. The faint, humid stars, hardly brighter than the body of the sky, twinkled and throbbed gently, and the shadows of the branches remained indecisive. “Mamma! There’s mamma,” cried Melitta suddenly. A woman, dressed in a garment of triple muslin striped with blue, was seen advancing with a tranquil step, alone. As soon as she caught sight of the child she ran up to her, raised her off the ground, lifted her up in her arms, and kissed her energetically on the cheek. “My little girl! my little love! how are you?” “I am guiding somebody who wants to see Chimairis. And you? Are you out for a walk?” “Corinna is _accouchée_. I have been to see her. I have dined by her bedside.” “And what has she given birth to? A boy?” “Two twin girls, my dear, as pink as wax dolls. You can go and see them tonight; she will show them to you.” “Oh! how lovely! Two little courtesans. What are their names?” “They are both called Pannychis, because they were born on the day before the Aphrodisiæ. It is a divine presage. They will be pretty.” She replaced the child upon her feet, and turning to Demetrios: “What do you think of my daughter? Have I the right to be proud of her?” “You have the right to be satisfied with one another,” he answered gravely. “Kiss mamma,” said Melitta. He silently imprinted a kiss between her breasts. Pythias returned it to him upon the mouth, and they separated. Demetrios and the child advanced a few more paces beneath the trees, whilst the courtesan receded into the distance, turning her head as she walked. At last they reached their goal, and Melitta said: “It is here.”