“The good hour be with you!” said Mattina, and then ran back into the house, hearing her master calling her.
Later in the day, when her mistress had gone out for the afternoon, Mattina filled a glass with cold water and carried it carefully into the neighbouring courtyard. She found the ground floor room easily, and lifting the latch, stood hesitatingly in the doorway. Tapping at a door was unknown in Poros etiquette.
A young woman with a pale face and tumbled fair hair lay on the bed in a corner of the room.
She opened her eyes as the door creaked, and smiled at Mattina.
“What is it, little one? Whom do you want?”
“Antigone said …” and Mattina shifted from one foot to another, “that there was not a soul to get you a glass of water.”
The young woman raised herself on her elbow, and her fair hair fell about her shoulders.
“And so you came to bring me one! But what kindness! I accept with gratitude; but it is not water I want. Since the morning I have taken nothing, and I have a hollow there, which gives me still more pain in the head.”
Mattina looked puzzled; she did not know what a “hollow” was.
“Listen, little one: on the shelf of that cupboard there, there is a small box of chocolate; it is in powder all ready and my spirit lamp wants but a match to it. Bring then your glass of water; you see we do require it after all, pour it in the little pan, and the chocolate, so … stir it a little with the spoon, and we will wait till it bubbles. You can wait a little …. Yes? Is it not so?”