And here against a wall were the plumtrees. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve found her!’ ‘Ah, Gérard,’ uttered the girl in a gratified tone as Major Alderley walked through into the light. Thames did not try to cheer her. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. ‘Because I love you.
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