Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. M. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her.
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