Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. “I’ll turn you here. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. “I do not think so. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair.
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