Julian remembered Constantia, the sister of Constantius, a widow of ripe age, the evil genius of her brother, her who had incited him to commit numberless crimes, crimes which were frequently mere fatuous stupidities. Amazed, he asked, anxious to know by what quality this woman had tamed his brother--
"Yes, very ugly. She was short, brown, thin, and had bad teeth, which I can't bear in women. Nevertheless, being aware of this defect, she never laughed. People used to say she deceived me, that in disguise she used to go to the circus, as Messalina did, on visits to a young and handsome groom. Well, what of it? Did not I on my side deceive her? She never bothered me, and I used to take care in return never to worry her about these trifles. Folk used to say she was cruel! By God, Julian, she knew how to govern! Of course she didn't like the authors of epigrams on her bad manners, comparing her to some kitchen-slave dressed as Cæsar's wife! She loved revenge, admiration! And what a mind, what a mind, Julian! Why, I was as much at ease sheltered behind her, as behind a granite wall. Ah, the mad things we used to do together! We certainly never lacked amusement."
He smiled at some agreeable recollection and passed the tip of his tongue along his rosy upper lip between the sips of Chian wine.
"There's no denying we made the most of time," he repeated, not without modest pride.
When Julian was on his way to this interview with his brother, he had thought of waking in him some feeling of seriousness and remorse, had even prepared a little speech, in the style of Libanius, against the doings of irresponsible tyrants. He had expected to see a man bowed under the yoke of Nemesis, and not the tranquil fat and rosy visage of this comely athlete. Words died on Julian's lips. He looked without blame or distaste upon this "docile animal"--for so he inwardly named his brother. Of what avail were sermons to a young stallion? Julian contented himself therefore with saying to Gallus in a grave tone--
"Why are you going to Milan? Do you suspect nothing?"
And, sweeping his hand significantly round his neck, he added--
"The slipnoose of death is already here! 'He' is tightening it little by little. Why, he would unearth me from a rabbit-burrow, Julian! No, no, best speak no more of it! All's over! We've made the most of time, that's all."
