"And he is in love with Lydia?"
"Frightfully in love."
"And Lydia?"
"Ah! no one knows; she's very sly, Lydia"; and Cleon chuckled to himself.
"And why did everybody look at one another when Ariston sang about Demeter?"
"Well, the women don't like to have it talked about."
I was puzzled.
"Do tell me about it," I said, "for I know nothing about Demeter except what I have read in my classics."
"Well, Demeter, you see"—but he blushed and stammered—"I really never had it altogether explained to me; the women never talk of it, and yet the Cult, as they call it, 'the Cult of Demeter,' is the most important thing to them in the world."
I went on eating my breakfast and trying to guess what Cleon was driving at, but altogether failed.