Eleanor started, and rose too, involuntarily, to her feet. There on the ground lay all the little Nemi fragments which Manisty had given to Lucy, and which had been stowed away, each carefully wrapped in tissue paper, in the well of her old workbox.
Eleanor assisted to pick them up, rather silently. The note of keen distress in Lucy's voice rang in her ears.
'They are not much hurt, luckily,' she said.
And indeed, thanks to the tissue paper, there were only a few small chips and bruises to bemoan when Lucy at last had gathered them all safely into her lap. Still, chips and bruises in the case of delicate Græco-Roman terra-cottas are more than enough to make their owner smart, and Lucy bent over them with a very flushed and rueful face, examining and wrapping them up again.
'Cotton-wool would be better,' she said anxiously. 'How have you put your two away?'
Directly the words were out of her mouth she felt that they had been better unspoken.
A deep flush stained Eleanor's thin face.
'I am afraid I haven't taken much care of them,' she said hurriedly.
They were both silent for a little. But while Lucy still had her lap full of her treasures, Eleanor again stood up.
'I will go in and rest for an hour before déjeuner. I think I might go to sleep.'