place, breaking his fast with her oaten bread, and drinking the spring water from the ivory-handled rhyton that had served the funeral feasts of the dead Lucumo.
Musa had resumed her plaiting of the biodo, and was all the while longing for him to be gone. He was sacred to her, but he was not welcome; and all the while, also, the treachery of the little curly cherub-faced Zirlo was heavy at her heart.
He had sold her for a silver piece!
As she plaited she had a rebellious and unwilling look, as if this stranger held her captive instead of being but a visitor there; a guest, sharing her bread. She was vaguely distrustful of him; his hands were so white, his linen so fine.
'Joconda was poor,' she said, abruptly; 'you are not a poor man.'
'No, I am not. Anton, the son of Joachim—named after his brother Anton—went to live in Geneva, and owned small craft upon the lake. He throve, and earned bigger boats, and built them for himself, and at last became owner of lake-steamers, and made much money. He was a simple hard-living man to the last, and saved all the money he made. I am his only son; I
