Charicleia was a dainty piece of femininity, but outrageously meretricious, giving herself to anyone who happened to meet her, even if he should want her at very little cost; if you but looked at her, she nodded at once, and there was no fear that Charicleia might perhaps be reluctant. She was clever too, in every way, and an artist comparable with any courtesan you please at alluring a lover, bringing him into complete subjection when he was still of two minds, and when at last he was in her toils working him up and fanning his flame, now by anger, now by flattery, soon by scorn and by pretending to have an inclination for someone else. She was every bit of her thoroughly sophisticated, that woman, and plentifully armed with siege-engines to train upon her lovers.
