Alcander fell asleep right there, where he was already nearly fully reclined, on the dining room couch. Polybius excused himself to study, and Meander drifted off into the night without even saying good-bye. Since it was Thursday, Pandora assumed he was going to attend the cockfights.

Happily, this left only Pandora and Charis to listen to Uncle Stephanos's after-dinner story. All three secretly liked it that way, of course, never saying anything to the others; they looked forward to what had become a welcome ritual. As they settled in on the front terrace, overlooking the hill, they nibbled on nuts, dried fruit, and figs. Pandora smelled the sweet night air and stared up at the stars. If the gods lived on Mount Olympus, what fantastic creatures were living on the stars?

She hoped tonight's story wouldn't be as frightening as the one about the woman who chose to bite off her tongue rather than reveal a secret.

That story scared Pandora so much she had bad dreams for many nights after.

Still worse, not only because it was so sad but even more because it was true, was the story about Uncle Stephano's dog. He had found her, an unwanted, abandoned pup and had raised her himself.

It was eight then but "still as lively as the day I found her." Uncle Stephanos was going off to fight the Spartans. "I was much younger then, but not nearly as handsome as I am today." He bid farewell to family and friends, boarded his trireme, and sailed off.

No one heard the sound of her furious, frantic barking over the noise made by the pounding surf. Distraught over his master's leave-taking, the dog had leaped into the sea and attempted to follow him wherever it was he might be going.

They found her soaked, limp, exhausted body washed back up on the same shore in the morning. Pandora's uncle didn't find out until two years later. He had been a prisoner of war and was only released after a ransom was paid.

She now rested in her very own tomb on her master's estate.

"Tonight's story," Stephanos began in his melodious stage voice, "is about Argeia, a Theban woman who was married to King Aristodemus many, many years ago.
"After Argeia joyously gave birth to twin boys her husband died quite unexpectedly. It became, therefore, most imperative — certainly as far as his numerous relatives were concentrated (he seemed to have more now that he was dead) — that the mother reveal which one of the twins had been the firstborn so that he could, of course, scramble around as best they could to win over the new, rich, infant heir.

"Argeia refused to do this."

"The eager relatives, however, were not to be denied. They watched her every move, without her knowing. She was never out of their sight. Finally, they got what they wanted. They ascertained that she always bathed one of the boys before the other, and it was decided that he must be the eldest and, therefore, the rightful heir, and he was crowned accordingly."

Pandora was relieved that the story wasn't scary or sad. She never knew with Uncle Stephanos—

"Unpredictability is part of my charm," he liked to say and, indeed, it was.
Pandora went to bed feeling more content than she felt in a long, long time.

She was counting the days until she would see the Wise One again. She hoped he would remember her. The possibility that he wouldn't had never crossed her mind until that very moment. He had to remember. He was just what she was looking for, although up until that very moment she wasn't aware that she had been looking for anything.