The stranger looked at the woman, who was still young, and detected some traces of beauty. But she was wasted, her eyes lachrymose, her mouth disfigured by broken teeth. She was wrapped in an ample mantle which must have been of beautiful weave but was now dirty and threadbare; her feet were naked, and her tangled hair, in which the unhappy creature had thrust a branch of wild flowers, was held by a copper comb.
"You are wasting your time here," said the Greek with a kindly smile. "I have not so much as an obolus in my pouch."
The man's gentle accent seemed to intimidate the poor unfortunate. She was accustomed to blows; man to her represented brutal assault, gratification revealed with bites, and in the presence of the Greek's tender manner she seemed disconcerted and shy, as if she suspected danger.
"Have you no money?" she said with humility, after a long silence. "It matters not; here I am. You please me; I am your slave. Among all those people rioting at the hostelry my eyes have turned to you."
She bent over the Greek, caressing his curly hair with her calloused hands, while he regarded her with compassionate eyes, seeing her shrunken breast and hollow form. Hungry and alone in an unknown land he felt attracted by the kindness of the unhappy creature; there was the fraternity of misery between them.
"If you desire company, stay near me," he said; "talk as much as you wish, but do not caress me. I am hungry; I have eaten nothing since dawn, and at this moment I would exchange all the joys of Cytherea for the pittance of any mariner."
The harlot stood up straight, so great was her surprise.
"You hungry? You faint with hunger, when I thought you nourished on the ambrosia of Zeus?"
Her eyes displayed astonishment such as she would have felt had she seen Aphrodite, the nude, white, goddess who was guarded up there in her temple, descend from her marble pedestal and offer herself with open arms to the rowers of the port for an obolus.
"Wait, wait!" she cried with resolution, after a moment's reflection.
The Greek saw her running toward the huts, and when at last weariness and weakness began to close his eyes, he felt her near him again, touching his shoulder.
"Take this, my master! It has cost me dear to obtain it. The cruel Lais, an old woman as horrible as the Pareæ, who helps us to live through days of privation, has agreed to give me her supper, after making me take oath that by the time the sun rises I will hand her two sestertii. Eat, my love; eat and drink!"