Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. ‘It needs not that you tell me. As to Mrs. With this person—who was no other than Mr. Now what? There was an interest, or why ask him who they were. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her. ‘You do not know how I am like my mother. ’ ‘You may not get the chance.
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