“Or, I could dismiss Mallia, but then, where would the lovers meet? And if he took her home with him...” I still waited. Somewhere there was a trap. Rhodopis had not written, then met me, without a purpose. “Perhaps you have given too much thought to family honor, Sappho. So critical of Charaxos...of me.” Her voice had grown confidential. “If Kleis has done anything foolish, I am willing to accept the responsibility,” I said. “And the consequence, too...with my husband?” I stood up, brushing off the bench dust. The interview was over: obviously, further discussion was useless. Why let Rhodopis press her advantage? I nodded and left, with the sound of her laughter behind me. P P Why? It is a question I must answer: it is a multiple question. Has Rhodopis done this to spite me, wound me, shame me? Is Kleis doing this to assert herself, to prove that she is not a child? In protest, against me, my house? To estrange us farther? Did Kleis tell the whole truth about that day at the spring-revel? If I knew what happened... She seemed so happy on our ocean trip. Or was it I who was happy? Perhaps I teased her too much before Phaon. Did she think I had no right to be attracted to him? Do I make her out to be more sensitive than she really is? Love is a jealous companion. Right now, all I can see clearly is that perfumed handkerchief and twirling parasol. P P