The philosopher asked us at once whether we were aware that Theodosius had lately promulgated a new edict forbidding young maidens to appear in public as singers or flute-players." "And did Agne hear that ?" said the old man in a low voice as he pointed to the curtain.
"No, she and Dada were in the garden on to which the room opened, and mother explained at once that though Agne was a Christian she was a very good girl, and that so long as she remained in our service she was bound to sing with us whenever she was required.

The philosopher exclaimed at once: 'The very thing!' and they whispered together, and called the girls and desired them to show what they could do." "And how did they perform ?" asked the old man, who was growing excited.
"Dada warbled like a lark, and Agne--well you know how it always is.

Her voice sounded lovely but it was just as usual.

You can guess how much there is in her and how deep her feeling is but she never quite brings it out.

What has she to complain of with us?
And yet whatever she sings has that mournful, painful ring which even you can do nothing to alter.
However, she pleased them better than Dada did, for I noticed that Gorgo and the gentleman glanced at each other and at her, and whispered a word now and then which certainly referred to Ague.