He drew a little breath and stepped back. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. . It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age.
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