But I was more interested in the scene immediately before me. In the flickering glare of the torches, which left the corners of the room in dense shadow, I saw that a huge low table ran around three sides of the room, and that between this table and the pillars a series of divans, covered with many cushions, were occupied by couples, numbering perhaps twenty-five, or about fifty people in all. But in addition there were many divans vacant, or occupied by girls only. The space between the pillars and the walls of the room, about ten feet wide, was vacant except for an attendant here and there, and served as a sort of corridor to the different divans. It was dim in this corridor, for the torches were all on the sides of the pillars toward the center of the room, but I could see that the space between the pillars and the walls ran all the way around the room. And with one or two exceptions, which I did not at first notice, the people there were dressed entirely in the Roman costume. And a very beautiful costume it is. The scene was perfect in every detail, even to the languorous music, serving as an undertone to conversation. I might have been gazing upon a banquet given to commemorate the appointment of Caligula’s pet horse as Prime Minister. In my morning coat and gray trousers I hesitated in the doorway, convinced, for a moment, that my appearance would bring down upon me the displeasure of Rome. Then the boy touched my arm. “Please to follow the corridor, sar, and select the young lady with whom you will dine. It is velly simple, sar.” Then he turned away and the big doors closed behind me. I was in for it and I walked, somewhat timidly, along the corridor to my right, glancing this way and that. Whenever I came to a girl alone, her eyes met mine frankly. But deep in the eyes of nearly all of them lay repulsion and fear rather than a welcome. All of them, without exception, were beautiful. Fury at this abominable captivity, if such it was, surged up in me then. I stamped along, hardly knowing what I was doing, longing for the power to bring the organizers of such a place to book and set the pathetic captives free. And suddenly my eyes met those of a girl whose expression attracted my attention. Her face conveyed the impression of great personal dignity, but beneath this there struggled a desperate appeal, tragic in its intensity. She was reclining on one of the lounges, and she was alone. I passed between two of the pillars and addressed her quietly. “May I dine here with you?” She made room for me at once. “It will give me great pleasure,” she answered, with an obvious effort.