'If Chrysanthus be ex-consul, can you and I be satisfied with less than ex-Praetorian-Prefect?
What will be the price, think you?
Has Bessas hung out a tariff yet in the Forum ?' 'He knows better than to fix a maximum, as long as a wealthy fool remains in the city--though that won't be much longer, I take it.' 'Why come you hither, dear my lord ?' urged Basil, with more seriousness.
Regarding him with a grave eye, his friend replied in an undertone: 'To spy upon you.' 'Ha!--In very truth ?' 'You could wish me a more honourable office,' Marcian went on, smiling sadly.

'Yet, if you think of it, in these days, it is some honour to be a traitor to both sides.

There has been talk of you in Rome.

Nay, who knows how or why! They have nothing to do but talk, and these victories of the Goth have set up such a Greek cackle as was never heard since Helen ran away to Troy,--and, talking of Greek, I bear a letter for you from Heliodora.' Basil, who had been listening gravely, started at this name and uttered an idle laugh.

From a wallet hanging at his girdle, Marcian drew forth the missive.
'That may wait,' said Basil, glancing indifferently at the folded and sealed paper before he hid it away.