She was conscious of only one thing: the luminous personality of Cleopatra.

The queen was all that Cornelia had noticed her to be when they met at the Great Square; but she was more than a beautiful woman.

In fact, in mere bodily perfection Monime or Berenice might well have stood beside her.
The glance of the queen went through and through her guests like arrows of softly burning light.

It was impossible to withdraw one's eyes from her; impossible to shake off the spell of an enjoyable magnetism.

If she moved her long, shapely fingers, it was speech; if she raised her hand, eloquence.