Also its owner walked lame and continually twitched his
shoulders as though they gave him uneasiness. The stranger opened his
lips to speak, and Caleb knew him at once. He was the chamberlain of
Domitian who had been outbid by Nehushta in the slave ring.
"Greeting, noble Saturius," he said. "Be seated, I pray, for it seems to
pain you to stand."
"Yes, yes," answered the chamberlain, "still I had rather stand. I met
with an accident last night, a most unpleasant accident," and he coughed
as though to cover up some word that leapt to his lips. "You also,
worthy Demetrius--that is your name, is it not?" he added, eyeing him
keenly--"look as though you had not slept well."
"No," answered Caleb, "I also met with an accident--oh! nothing that
you can see--a slight internal injury which is, I fear, likely to prove
troublesome. Well, noble Saturius, how can I--serve you? Anything in the
way of Eastern shawls, for instance?"
"I thank you, friend, no. I come to speak of shoulders, not shawls," and
he twitched his own--"women's shoulders, I mean. A remarkably fine pair
for their size had that Jewish captive, by the way, in whom you seemed
to take an interest last night--to the considerable extent indeed of
fourteen hundred sestertia.
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