"[...]What sort of thing is that? It is an image-the image of a dead man which was carried round by the Egyptians, and is to this day by the Romans, to remind the feasters that they should fill every hour with enjoyment, since enjoyment is all too soon at an end. Such an image, child-" "You are thinking of the dead girl-Seleukus's daughter-whose portrait you are painting?" asked Melissa. Alexander nodded, sat down on the bench by his sister, and, taking up her needlework, exclaimed "Give us some light, child. I want to see your pretty face. I want to be sure that Diodorus did not perjure himself when, at the 'Crane, ' the other day, he swore that it had not its match in Alexandria. Besides, I hate the [...]"