She went on, for the first time a little glad that she was penniless.
"He may find--neither fortune, nor position, nor heart awaiting him!" she finished pointedly.
The Maccabee pulled one of his stubborn locks that had fallen over his eyes.

The smile grew less vivid.
He had no comment to make to this.

Meanwhile Laodice looked at him.
"Shall--you be with--your friend in Jerusalem ?" she asked.
"It depends on his wife," he retorted with a grimace.
She would be glad if this tall, comely trifler, with a voice as musical as some grave-toned viol, were to be seen from time to time to relieve the tedium of life with the offensive Philadelphus.

This admission instantly brought a shock to her.

She had learned to study herself in these last few days since she had become aware of the ways of the world.