As it is I have wasted most of the day." When we went into the hot room, I asked him, "Where did you get your new bearers?
They look to me like Nemestronia's.
What have you done with your Saxons ?" "Nemestronia has them," he explained, "and my Nubians were hers.

The dear old lady took a fancy to my Saxons and teased and wheedled until I agreed to exchange.

Nobody ever can refuse anything to Nemestronia.

I argued a good deal.

I told her that even if she is the youngest-looking old lady in Rome it would never do in the world to set herself in contrast to such blue eyes and pink skins and such yellow hair: that Nubians were much more appropriate and that nothing could be more trying than Saxons, even for a bride.