"Yes, please do that," he responded eagerly, "and do not let us stop to look at the ghostly apartments—where you sit interests me far more."
So they went rapidly through Sir Timothy's rooms, with the great state bed where had slept his royal master, so the tale ran, and on down some uneven steps, and through a small door, and there found themselves in the long, narrow room, with its bays along the southern side, and one splendid mullioned casement at the end with coats-of-arms emblazoned upon each division. And through this, which looked west, there poured the lowered afternoon sun with a broad shaft of glorious light.
The place was almost empty, but for a chest or two and a table near this window with writing materials and books. And upon a rough set of shelves close at hand many more volumes reposed.
"So it is here you live and work, you wise, lonely, little Pallas Athené," he said.
"You must not call me that—I am not at all like her," Halcyone answered softly. "She was very clever and very noble—but a little hard, I think. Wait until I have shown you my own goddess. I would rather have her soul than any other of the Olympian gods."
John Derringham took a step nearer to her.
"Do you remember the night at dinner here when you told me Pallas Athené's words to Perseus?" he said. "I have thought of them often, and they have helped me sometimes, I think."
"I am so glad," said Halcyone simply, while she moved towards her treasure chest.
He watched her with satisfied eyes—every action of hers was full of grace, and the interest he felt in her personally obscured any for the moment in what she was going to show him, but at last he became aware that she had unlocked a cupboard drawer, and was taking from it a bundle of blue silk.
His curiosity was aroused, and he went over as near as he could.