"My happiest fortune consists in this: that Venus Victrix favors me. But
we are not yet at the end of our story; our Lesbian swan met at Lochias
with another rare bird, an artist in statuary."

"How long have the sculptors been reckoned among birds?" asked Sabina.
"At the utmost can they be compared to woodpeckers."

"When they work in wood," laughed Verus. "Our artist, however, is an
assistant of Papias, and handles noble materials in the grand style.
On this occasion, however, he is building a statue out of a very queer
mixture of materials."

"Verus may very well call our new acquaintance a bird," interrupted
Balbilla, "for as we approached the screen behind which he is working he
was whistling a tune with his lips, so pure and cheery, and loud, that it
rang through the empty hall above all the noise of the workmen. A
nightingale does not pipe more sweetly. We stood still to listen till
the merry fellow, who had no idea that we were by, was silent again; and
then hearing the architect's voice, he called to him over the screen.
'Now we must clap Urania's head on; I saw it clearly in my mind and would
have had it finished with a score of touches, but Papias said he had one
in the workshop. I am curious to see what sort of a sugarplum face,
turned out by the dozen, he will stick on my torso--which will please me,
at any rate, for a couple of days. Find me a good model for the bust of
the Sappho I am to restore. A thousand gadflies are buzzing in my brain
--I am so tremendously excited! What I am planning now will come to
something!'"

Balbilla, as she spoke the last words, tried to mimic a man's deep voice,