Whether they believe me innocent or guilty of the charge is little; I can never be happy again." "And why not, dear lady ?" cried Agias.
"Don't ask me! I do not know.

I do not know anything! Leave me! It is not fit that you should see me crying like a child.

Leave me! Leave me!" And thus conjured, Agias went up to the poop once more.
The yacht was flying down the current under her powerful oarage.
Demetrius was still standing with his hands fixed on the steering paddle; his gaze was drifting along in the plashing water.

The shadowy outlines of the great city had vanished; the yacht was well on her way down the river to Ostia.

Save for the need to avoid a belated merchantman anchored in midstream for the night, there was little requiring the master's skill.