The bright light dazzled his weakened eyes, and his habit of gazing into vacancy or on the ground compelled him to glance from side to side for some time, ere he could accustom himself to it.
Apollonius approached, greeted him respectfully, and assured him that he deeply regretted having interrupted him in the work for which the whole world was waiting, but he had come on important business.
"I know, I know," the old scholar answered with a smile of superiority.
"What is all this ado about ?" As he spoke he looked around the group of spectators, among whom he knew no one except Apollonius, who had charge of the museum accounts, and the architect, for whom he had composed the inscription on the Odeum, which he had recently built.

But when his eyes met only unfamiliar faces, the confidence which hitherto had sustained him began to waver, though still convinced that a demand such as the philosopher suggested could not possibly be made upon him, he continued: "It is stated that there is a plan for turning my garden into a public square.

And for what purpose?
To erect a piece of sculpture.

But there can be nothing serious in the rumour, for my property is recorded in the land register, and the law--" "Pardon me," Apollonius broke in, "if I interrupt you.

We know the ordinance to which you refer, but this case is an exceptional one.