When they had finished singing, the believers rose, and walked in single file to the tomb, the side of which they kissed.  They were common men, accustomed to work with their hands.  They advanced with a heavy step, the eyes fixed, the jaw dropped, but they had an air of sincerity.  They knelt down, each in turn, before the sarcophagus, and put their lips to it.  The women lifted their little children in their arms, and gently placed their cheek to the stone.

Thais, surprised and troubled, asked a deacon why they did so.

“Do you not know, woman,” replied the deacon, “that we celebrate to-day the blessed memory of St. Theodore the Nubian, who suffered for the faith in the days of the Emperor Diocletian?  He lived virtuously and died a martyr, and that is why, robed in white, we bear red roses to his glorious tomb.”

On hearing these words, Thais fell on her knees, and burst into tears.  Half-forgotten recollections of Ahmes returned to her mind.  On the memory of this obscure, gentle, and unfortunate man, the blaze of candles, the perfume of roses, the clouds of incense, the music of hymns, the piety of souls, threw all the charms of glory.  Thais thought in the dazzling glare—­

“He was good, and now he has become great and glorious.  Why is it that he is elevated above other men?  What is this unknown thing which is more than riches or pleasure?”

She rose slowly, and turned towards the tomb of the saint who had loved her, those violet eyes, now filled with tears which glittered in the candle-light; then, with bowed head, humble, slow, and the last, with those lips on which so many desires hung, she kissed the stone of the slave’s tomb.

When she returned to her house, she found Nicias, who, with his hair perfumed, and his tunic thrown open, was reading a treatise on morals whilst waiting for her.  He advanced with open arms.

“Naughty Thais,” he said, in a laughing voice, “whilst I was waiting for you to come, do you know what I saw in this manuscript, written by the gravest of Stoics?  Precepts of virtue and noble maxims:  No!  On the staid papyrus, I saw dance thousands and thousands of little Thaises.  Each was no bigger than my finger, and yet their grace was infinite, and all were the only Thais.  There were some who flaunted in mantles of purple and gold; others, like a white cloud, floated in the air in transparent drapery.  Others again, motionless and divinely nude, the better to inspire pleasure, expressed no thought.  Lastly, there were two, hand in hand; two so alike that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.  Both smiled.  The first said, ‘I am love.’  The other, ’I am death.’”

Thus speaking, he pressed Thais in his arms, and not noticing the sullen look in her downcast eyes, he went on adding thought to thought, heedless of the fact that they were all lost upon her.