the dirt that gritted beneath their feet, for all that their eyes took
note.... Yet they were not cruel or thoughtless. Sometimes there came a
belated response--half surprised, but cordial--to his gentle "good day."
Sometimes a stranger said, "The day is warm," or, "The breeze from the
Lake is cool to-day." Then the eyes of Achilles glowed like soft stars
in their places. Surely now they would speak. They would say, "Is it
thus in Greece?" But they never spoke. And the days hurried their swift
feet through the long, dirty streets.

A tall woman in spectacles was coming toward him, sniffing the air a
little as she moved. "Have you got any bananas?"

"Yes. They nice." He led the way into the shop and reached to the
swinging bunch. "You like some?" he said, encouragingly.

She sniffed a step nearer. "Too ripe," decisively.

"Yes-s. But here and here--" He twirled the bunch skilfully on its
string. "These--not ripe, and these." His sunny smile spread their
gracious acceptableness before her.

She wrinkled her forehead at them. "Well--you might as well cut me off
six."

"A pleasure, madame." He had seized the heavy knife.

"Give me that one." It was a large one near the centre; "and this one
here--and here."

When the six were selected and cut off they were the cream of the