“Where do you live in Athens?” asked Iason, nursing a much scratched knee.
Pavlo told them.
“Just alone with your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“And your father and mother? Do you not remember them?”
“My mother, … no, … I was very small. My father just a little. I remember playing with the tassel of his sword. You know that my great-grandfather ….”
“Oh, stop! Stop!” cried the two boys and Andromache in chorus; “we know all that!”
Chryseis told them that they were very rude, but they went on determinedly:—
“Four times yesterday, when they knew you were coming, did we hear the story. Once father told us, once mother, once Kyria Penelope, that is the governess, you know, and once we had it for a dictation lesson out of the History of the Revolution; so we know all about what your great-grandfather did, and all Botzari said about him, and how brave you must be and everything.”
Pavlo flushed a little, and felt quite grateful to Chryseis who changed the subject.