Old Andreino sidled through the vociferating knot of women, and came close to her and put his mouth to her ear.
'Never listen to them; her debts were her own if she had any; let them take their scores to her grave. Come home with me, my dear, and bring the pitcher with you and we will count it all out fair and straight, and think what best to do with it; you might put it in my son's wine shop, and he would give you good profit out of it, and so———'
Musa shook him off; she stood like one slowly awaking out of a hideous dream; she looked from his face to the faces of the women, and a darkness of scorn and of rage gathered over her own.
'You all lie! You all lie!' she said, sternly. 'She never owed man or woman a handful of leaves, or a hank of wool, or a copper coin in all the days of her life. Never, never! She robbed herself to give to me. She robbed no other. Oh tongues false and accursed! have you no fear when you lie of the dead?'
For a moment they were silenced before the intensity of scorn, the solemnity of rebuke. For a moment their falsehood and their greed shrivelled up as dry leaves
