Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. Always as black and bitter as gall. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight.
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