She was mine the moment I looked upon her.
And by the same token she knew that I belonged to her above all men.

I strode to her.

She half-lifted from her couch as if drawn upward to me.
And then we looked with all our eyes, blue eyes and black, until Pilate's wife, a thin, tense, overwrought woman, laughed nervously.

And while I bowed to the wife and gave greeting, I thought I saw Pilate give Miriam a significant glance, as if to say, "Is he not all I promised ?" For he had had word of my coming from Sulpicius Quirinius, the legate of Syria.

As well had Pilate and I been known to each other before ever he journeyed out to be procurator over the Semitic volcano of Jerusalem.
Much talk we had that night, especially Pilate, who spoke in detail of the local situation, and who seemed lonely and desirous to share his anxieties with some one and even to bid for counsel.