“When I see that I see all,” repeated the child enthusiast. “Medon has told me all.”
Dryas opened his lips to answer but thought better of it. Theria was a most determined little person when once she had made up her mind.
They went back to the aula. Here ruin met them. Baltè, the old nurse, was sweeping up their shrine of Apollo in great indignation.
“Whatever made ye litter up the aula like this?” She complained. “Rubble and rubbish when the rain washed all so clean last night. Never ye mind. I’ll be rid o’ one of ye after to-day.”
Dryas did not notice this speech but Theria looked up in alarm.
“Which one?” she asked.
“Never ye mind. There; I should not ’a’ spoken.”
“Why shouldn’t you spoken?”
Such caution was unusual in Baltè. The threat sounded real. Theria caught Baltè’s skirt.