“I like those pictures,” spoke Theria. “They are beautiful, those gods and men that you make.” Tears ran straight down the man’s dirty cheeks. Praise was rare for a slave. “Do you think so?” he queried. “Do you think so, my lady?” Theria did not answer. She was thinking. “My father, now. If you could bring your money to my father, each drachma as you earn it.” “Do you mean me to begin all over again, my lady? Then I will. If only my master does not take me away from the pottery. He wants me for a body servant. He is always threatening to take me for a body servant!” “But to be a body servant is easier,” said Theria. Privately she was wondering what sort of a body servant this uncouth man would make. “I hate to be a body servant,” he said loathingly. “Besides, I would not then know where to turn to earn extra money.” Suddenly Theria clapped her hands with a cry of delight. “I have it! I have it!” she said. “I can help you myself.” The man gazed at her as if his faith in her goddesshood had quite returned. “I have jewels,” she went on, moving her hands in her excited telling. “They are ancestral jewels and were given me at my birth. I am supposed to give them to my first daughter at birth. Well, my first daughter can do without them. They are rich pearls. They are worth more than the price of a slave.” “Lady, lady! Oh, they would free me at once!” “Yes, free you at once. But the matter is dangerous. The priests may think you have stolen the jewels. If they do, call for Nikander’s daughter.” “Yes, blessed one.” “And when you go to the Precinct ask for Kobon as your priest. The Kobons are angry with us and have never been in our house. Kobon will not recognize the jewels.” “Yes—yes,” he said as if in a dream. “But how to get them to you. Mother will not allow me, Father will not—Baltè, no; no slave would dare to do it for me. Besides, I hate to let slaves know anything. They are so apt to tell.” The man started out of his dream. “I will not tell, Despoina.” “You,” she laughed. “No, of course not, you will be hastening off as far as you can go. You will be free.” Then she added quite unintentionally, “Yes, you will be free and I will be in my room again. Shut in—always shut in!” Of course Theria did not say this to the slave. She said it to herself, because on a sudden she felt weak and discouraged, felt her capture very near. The slave, however, took note of her saying. “How strange,” he said. “How strange—I never thought——” “What is strange?” she demanded. “I never thought, Despoina, that wives and maidens cared to walk abroad. They keep the house and seem all content.” It was the same comment that the lad Sophocles had made, the very same. It roused her sudden anger and flood of speech.