“No, Felix,” Rose-Ann was saying, “there’s no use being afraid of good fortune. When the gods give us beauty, we must take it—not run away from it.”
“So!...” he said. “I’m afraid the Greeks thought differently.”
“They were so much less Greek, then,” said Rose-Ann.
3
“It’s late,” said Phyllis. “I must go home. Will you take me, Felix?”
He put on his hat and went out with her silently.
They walked along the empty streets without a word until they reached the door of the house in which she lived. Then she lifted her face up to him, and said,
“You know that I love you, Felix.”