That only is the paradise I long for.’”
“You forget I do not know modern Greek,” said Maurice, smiling at the enthusiasm of the Count; “nor indeed much ancient Greek, for the matter of that. But see, Count, you have dropped a photograph.”
“You can look at it,” said the Count, who had let it fall purposely; “I have no secrets.”
“Oh!”
“Ah, you think it a charming face?”
“Charming is too weak a word. It is Aphrodite herself.”
“Alas!” cried Caliphronas. with a merry laugh; “that goddess lived before the days of sun-pictures, else Apollo might have photographed her. No; that is no deity, but a mortal maiden whom I saw at Melnos. It is not bad for an amateur effort, is it?”
“Oh, very good, very good!” replied Maurice hurriedly; “but the face—what a heavenly face!”
“Ah, you see my paradise has got its Eve.”
“And its Adam, doubtless?”