midnight
Blanca fell upon her knees and kissed the coverlet on which reposed her mistress ; but Dea Flavia did not seem to see her . She was squatting on her heels , with body and head erect , and slowly now , like the rosy kiss of dawn upon the snow-clad hills of Etruria , a faint crimson glow spread over her pale cheeks . Blanca waited irresolute , not liking to leave her mistress before she could be assured that sleep had descended at last on those weary lids . The hour was very late , close upon midnight , and yet the city was not asleep . That constant murmur -- like unto the breaking of angry waves -- still sent its sinister echo through the still night air , and even in the house of Dea Flavia it seemed that hundreds of eyes were still open , fear having chased sleep away . There was a sound -- like the buzzing of bees -- that came from the slaves ' quarters beyond the peristyle , and from the studio , which lay the other side of the atrium , came the sound of muffled footsteps gliding over the mosaic of the floor . `` Go to bed now , child , '' said Dea Flavia at last , `` thou hast earned thy rest ... and ... stay !