But I was not
afraid of him. I rated him such a dolt, such an ass, that even if he
exclaimed that I was the image of Andivius Hedulio I had no doubt I could
convince him that I was what I pretended to be and could even expunge from
his mind any recollections of his having noticed such a striking
resemblance. In fact he did not make any remark on my appearance or seem
to have any inkling that he had ever seen me before, but accepted me as an
interesting stranger.
I dreaded what guests he might have and the actuality surpassed my
capacities to forecast possibilities.
I found the middle sofa at his table, for he adhered to the old-fashioned
furnishings for a _triclinium_, occupied by his wife, Nemestronia and
Vedia! Vedia, after one tense moment of incredulous numb staring,
regained her composure.
Evidently she had not confided in anyone the fact of my survival and
existence. For, if she had, she would have taken dear old Nemestronia into
her confidence, since she was as able to keep a secret as any woman who
ever lived and had loved me as if I had been her own and only grandson.
For Nemestronia manifestly had believed me dead. At sight of me she was as
thunderstruck as if she had seen an indubitable specter.
Pages:
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745