“Yes, when I had before my eyes the line in which it was written, ‘Nothing should deter you from improving your mind,’ I read, ’The kisses of Thais are warmer than fire, and sweeter than honey.’  That is how a philosopher reads the books of other philosophers—­and that is your fault, you naughty child.  It is true that, as long as we are what we are, we shall never find anything but our own thoughts in the thoughts of others, and that all of us are somewhat inclined to read books as I have read this one.”

She did not hear him; her soul was still before the Nubian’s tomb.  As he heard her sigh, he kissed her on the neck, and said—­

“Do not be sad, my child.  We are never happy in this world, except when we forget the world.

“Come, let us cheat life—­it is sure to take its revenge.  Come, let us love!”

But she pushed him away.

“We love!” she cried bitterly. “You never loved any one.  And I do not love you!  No!  I do not love you!  I hate you!  Go!  I hate you!  I curse and despise all who are happy, and all who are rich!  Go!  Go!  Goodness is only found amongst the unfortunate.  When I was a child I knew a black slave who died on the cross.  He was good; he was filled with love, and he knew the secret of life.  You are not worthy to wash his feet.  Go!  I never wish to see you again!”

She threw herself on her face on the carpet, and passed the night sobbing and weeping, and forming resolutions to live, in future, like Saint Theodore, in poverty and humbleness.

The next day, she devoted herself again to those pleasures to which she was addicted.  As she knew that her beauty, though still intact, would not last very long, she hastened to derive all the enjoyment and all the fame she could from it.  At the theatre, where she acted and studied more than ever, she gave life to the imagination of sculptors, painters, and poets.  Recognising that there was in the attitudes, movements, and walk of the actress, an idea of the divine harmony which rules the spheres, wise men and philosophers considered that such perfect grace was a virtue in itself, and said, “Thais also is a geometrician!” The ignorant, the poor, the humble, and the timid before whom she consented to appear, regarded her as a blessing from heaven.  Yet she was sad amidst all the praise she received, and dreaded death more than ever.  Nothing was able to set her mind at rest, not even her house and gardens, which were celebrated, and a proverb throughout the city.

The gardens were planted with trees, brought at great expense from India and Persia.  They were watered by a running brook, and colonnades in ruins, and imitation rocks, arranged by a skilful artist, were reflected in a lake, which also mirrored the statues that stood round it.  In the middle of the garden was the Grotto of Nymphs, which owed its name to three life-size figures of women, which stood on the threshold.