"How beautiful his horses were! and the bed of his chariot was gold, and the wheels ivory. And his audacity! The bystanders laughed as he rode away; they, who were so nearly under his wheels!"
She laughed at the recollection.
"They were rabble," said Ben-Hur, bitterly.
"He must be one of the monsters who are said to be growing up in Rome--Apollos ravenous as Cerberus. Does he reside in Antioch?"
"Egypt would suit him better than Syria."
"Hardly," Ben-Hur replied. "Cleopatra is dead."
That instant the lamps burning before the door of the tent came into view.
"Ah, then, we have not been to Egypt. I have not seen Karnak or Philae or Abydos. This is not the Nile. I have but heard a song of India, and been boating in a dream."
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