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Midway of the court was a tank lined with marbles and always filled with clear water. One morning Meffia, walking about the court, in her irritatingly aimless fashion, passed between Brinnaria and the edge of the tank.

Great was her exultation when she perceived that it was no longer Brinnaria and Meffia who gave cause for concern to Causidiena, but Meffia and Brinnaria, great her triumph when she made sure that Causidiena had ceased worrying about her, or worried only at long intervals, but was perpetually solicitous concerning Meffia. Meffia was indeed a cause of solicitude.

At first Brinnaria had been notably more prone than Meffia to assume gawky or ungainly postures, and, as she was the bigger of the two, she was the more conspicuous. Before long she began to improve in her bearing, but Meffia did not. Brinnaria held herself erect, head up and shoulders back.

She's been tubbed and scrubbed and massaged and perfumed twice a day ever since I came here and she smells worse than a polecat, anyhow, all day long, even the moment after her maid has finished her toilet. A whiff of Meffia sets me frantic. I'd be capable of any crime to get rid of her." More lecturing followed. "But it's true!" Brinnaria maintained.

Meffia sprawled uncouthly and was forever spreading her knees apart, generally with one up in the air. Her postures were so disgusting that Brinnaria was hot all over with determination not to be like Meffia. She succeeded.

I don't care whether I live or die or what death I die, if I can only save him. "And the risk is too small to think of. All you have to do is to stay abed and keep still. Utta will never tell and she won't let anyone in. Numisia will not suspect anything: any Vestal has the right to twenty-four hours abed and no questions asked, Meffia spent one day out of ten in bed.

Go to your room, go to bed and go' to sleep, stay asleep, keep your mouth shut, say nothing, pretend you woke me at midnight, pretend you had nothing to do with the fire going out, pretend you know nothing about it, keep your face straight, keep mum, leave the rest to me!" "But," wailed Meffia, "if they think you let the fire go out you'll be scourged for it."

There was no earthly reason for her so doing, as Brinnaria was barely a yard from the margin of the pool, and on the other side of Brinnaria was the ample expanse of the pavement of the spacious court. Brinnaria was exasperated by Meffia's proximity, by her lackadaisical manner, by her shambling gait, by her sleep-walking attitude, most of all by the peculiar thin, sour odor which Meffia exhaled.

Brinnaria saw the arena, saw the spectators, through a film of mist, through a gray veil, through a fog of blackness. She realized that, for the first time in her life, she was on the verge of fainting. Mechanically she looked about her. Her glance fell on Meffia crumpled in her arm-chair. That steadied her. If Meffia had fainted, she would not, she would not. She did not faint.

She's not fat and placid like Dossonia, but she is wonderfully dignified. My, I admire that woman!" "I wonder," Flexinna reflected, "who will be chosen in her p-p-place." "Poor wretch!" Brinnaria commented. "I'm sorry for her, whoever she is. Just think, she'll have to pair with that unspeakable little muff of a Meffia. I hate that girl."