But never fear; Jerusalem is not yet so far gone that it would not enjoy a pretty stranger." The curious sense of indignation that possessed Laodice was purely instinctive.

Her mind could not sense the actual insult in the Greek's words.
"I would advise you to be kind to Philadelphus." "But, but--" Laodice cried, struggling with tears and shame, "he has this day offered insult to his own marriage with me, by asking that I live in shame with him till it could be proved that I am his wife!" The Greek's smile did not change.
"If we weigh all the unpleasantness of wedded life in too delicate a balance, my friend, I fear there would be little, indeed, that would escape condemnation as humiliating." Laodice raised her scarlet face to look in wonder at the Greek.

The cold smiling lips dismayed her for a moment.
"And thou seest no shame in this ?" she faltered.
"Thou sayest he is thy husband; why resent it ?" "Dost thou not see--see that--what am I but a shameless woman, if I live with him, though I be married to him thrice over!" "After all," said the Greek, after a silence which said more than words, "it is the consciousness of your own integrity which must influence you; not what others think of you.

It is not as if your husband thought better of you than you really are." "And you believe that I--" Laodice began and stopped, bewildered.
Amaryllis, smiling, moved toward the inner corridor of her house.

At the threshold of the arch she called back: "Please yourself, my friend," and was gone.
Laodice was, by this time, stunned and intensely repelled.