She seated herself, folding her hands above the music-roll, and lifting
her eyes to the dark face looking down at her. "Thank you."

Achilles leaned back against the counter, thinking a little. He sighed
gently. "I tell you many things," he said at last.

"About the Parthenon, please," said Betty Harris.

"You like Athens?" He said it like a child.

"I should like it--if they would tell me real things. I don't seem to
make them understand. But when they say how beautiful it is--I feel it
here." She laid her small hand to her side.

The smile of Achilles held the glory in its depths. "I tell you," he
said.

The clear face reflected the smile. A breath of waiting held the lips.
"Yes."

Achilles leaned again upon his counter. His face was rapt, and he spread
his finger-tips a little, as if something within them stirred to be
free.

"It stands so high and lifts itself"--Achilles raised his dark
hands--"ruined there--so great--and far beneath, the city lies, drawing
near and near, and yet it cannot reach... And all around is light--and
light--and light. Here it is a cellar"--his hands closed in with
crushing touch--"but there--!" He flung the words from him like a chant