“Can I say whatever I like?”
“Surely.”
“Then I want … there is a picture in a shop in Athens, with a broad golden frame; it is the sea, and a boat on it with a white sail, and you can see the sail in the water all long and wavy, and if you touch the water, you think your finger will be wet. That is what I want.”
“You shall have your picture; we will hang it in our house in Lexington, where there is no sea, and it will remind us of our island.”
“Shall we not live here in Poros, my uncle?”
“Here? Not yet! I am young still, and strong, and I mean to earn more money in America than I have done already. Besides, I have to think of providing your dowry now, you see. In good time, when I am older, and you are a woman grown, then, if God wills it, we will return to the island. It is not good to leave one’s bones in a strange land. No; in eight days we go down to Piræus to leave for America in a great big ship, bigger than you have ever seen before, even in your sleep, and when we get there, to America, you shall see what your eyes will see!”
“My uncle!”
“Yes.” Then as no words came, he added, “Say what you want! You must not fear to ask for whatever your heart desires.”
“My uncle, there is Zacharia too ….”
“What? The little one? I saw him at Kyra Kanella’s. He is very little.” Just for a second the young man hesitated, then—