The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1923-03-18
There Shall BoNoNre Doath" By DuldeDeamer

Of perfect beauty. He was Of
alabaster, his brow encircled with
narrow golden band and his bow
strung with gold wire. Beyond
the edges Of the pavement . little
lawn Of grass was bounded on
three sides by blank, frescoed
walls. On the fourth side, behind
row Of pillars Of pinkish, semi
crystalline stone, was the lucid
dimness Of q marble room con.
tanning only bed, . tripod table,
. tall basket holding rolls Of in.
scribed papyrus and the outspread
hide Of . lion.
It was the most secluded pOr..
ton OF the house Of the man who
had bought Cassandra four hours
before.
F1ecks Of light penetrated he
tween the vine leaves and freckled
the kneeling Eros. There was =
faint drone Of bees, for dwarf
bushes Of daphne grew against thA
walls whose cream-wIite stuccved
surface bore frescoes Of elegant
black and dark red figures IKE
those that were painted upon Attic
vases.
There was passivenesS upon
Cassandra, but under Il hot and
cold flashes Of emotion shuttlei
back and forth. She raised her
eyes to the alabaster Eros. Some
thing about the brow Of the rod
reminded her Of Evan. The sud-
den hurt was like blade in her
breast. She embraced the pedes-
tai with her bare arms, leaning
her forehead against It. But The
hurt changed to anger. She re-
leased the pedestal, clasping her
knees and staring toward the dim
room behind the pinkish pillars.
Fate had dragged down into the
sea the man whose lips she wanted
a. dying person desires life. But
she would still have love. Her
brows were knit Medea fashion.
The tenseness Of al her muscles,
was a mute challenge. Yet be-
meath this. challenge she was
afraid and her heart was beating
hurriedly, progressively. .-'
Somewhere near ct hand . door
opened and closed. 70 the girls
hearing Il might have been .
thunder clap. She was instantly
upon her feet. The spurred beat
ing Of her heart shook her, though
she desperately desired to be still
and confident.
Some one was crossing the dim
and spacious sleeping room behind
the pillars firm. sandalled tread
on the bare marble. Out into the
vertical noon sun came young
man and on across the grass.
He could not have been more
than twenty-three or four-rather
tall and with the proportions Of
a perfect athlete. His smooth
lying, close-cut. hair was as fair,
surely, as . sun gods, and from
head to foot he fulfilled the con-
ception Of q young Apollo. His
white tunic had q narrow edging
Of purple-the badge Of Roman
citiSenship. Under the roof of
leaves and lattice work Cassandra
was standing rather 10 she had
stood upon the auction block. She
had chosen life instead of death,
defiance instead Of defeat-and
life was approaching her.
The young man paused directly
in front of her.
81 owe you a great deal of graft
tude. II your eyes had not asked
me to do 30 / should not have
bought you this morning and then
should have missed a master
piece"
He was smiling. She noticed an
almost imperceptible culver of the
nostrils, like the twitching of q
hounds. His carefully trained
voice might have been thought
supercilious; but it was natural to
thu class To which he belonged.
She had heard such voices in the
house Of her foster parents.
His hands came lightly upon her
arms. They were cool, strong
hands.
"What 10 your name?"
"Cassandra."
Il was hard to utter it. In-
wardly her condition was one Of
chaos.
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