To her, at the moment, laughter was more hideous than any sobbing.

Outside the door she heard the gay, witless chatter of the maids and the valets.

They were happy--they--slaves, "speaking tools,"-- and she with the blood of the Claudii and Cornelii in her veins, a patrician among patricians, the niece of a consul-elect, a woman who was the heiress of statesmen and overturners of kingdoms,--_she_ was miserable beyond endurance.

Cornelia paced up and down the room, wishing she might order the giggling maids to be flogged and their laughter turned into howling.

Then she summoned Cassandra.
* * * * * Cornelia had never before tried to play the actress, but that night she flung herself into the game for life and death with all the earnestness of an energetic, intelligent, and spontaneous woman.