Your best plan is to lay it all on the shoulders of Hananja, the thaumaturgist; we have owed him a grudge this many a day.

However, I was not to teach you any lesson, for your wits are at least a match for ours." "Flattery will not win me," the woman broke in.

"Where is the gold ?" Castor handed her the solidi wrapped in a papyrus leaf, and then added: "Stay one moment! I must remove this white robe.

The girl must on no account recognize me.

I am going to force my way into the house with you--you found me in the street, an old man, a total stranger, and appealed to me for help.