"No! And he was not wicked. He thought himself good at that time, and he wished to be good. I know that best. All his change came later, when he ceased to love. Others made him what he is—yes, others—and Poppaea."
Here her eyelids filled with tears. Lygia followed her for some time with her blue eyes, and asked at last,—"Art thou sorry for him, Acte?"
"I am sorry for him!" answered the Grecian, with a low voice. And again she began to walk, her hands clinched as if in pain, and her face without hope.